The Zero Rebellion
by Rogue Leader 1000
Summary: In a time of war, one man seeks Chaos in order to bring change. AU story. Code Geass primarily, with concepts from other media, especially Patlabor. Set in the Dark Earth Universe.
1. Prologue

_Well here's something I've been working on for a while; just the prologue for now. I hope to make this part of a shared universe called Dark Earth that I am working on for the future!_

**In the year of our Lord 2022**

I

The limousine drove up to the large state building followed by a huge procession of similar black vehicles. The limousine didn't seem all that special; it looked exactly like all the other ones that were dropping off their patrons under the awnings. But it was different: the black vehicles in its motorcade were carrying secret service. This vehicle was the Presidential State Car for the American Empire, the personal limousine for the Empire's president, Adoniah Stone. This vehicle, known as Cadillac One, is outfitted with military armor at least five inches thick, bulletproof windows and the wheels are fitted with run flat tires. Anything other than that is unknown. Indeed, the security for this vehicle, nicknamed "The Beast" is said to border on levels of paranoia. However, in this day and age, that type of protection is looking increasingly more necessary…

The vehicle pulled up to the door under the awning. The rear right door opened, and out stepped a tall handsome man in his 40s of African descent. He was a 7-foot, muscled, imposing figure. He wore a moustache and goatee, and had long black hair kept up in dreadlocks. He had a stern, hardened face to match his rugged body, and had a look of wariness in his eyes. He kept his right hand close to the gun under his suit coat and extended the left to a young woman still trying to get out of the car. The young female was somewhere between 18 and 22. African, like her father, her skin was more of a creamy color, unlike her father the president, who was a darker, chocolaty brown. Her long flowing hair, too, was more of a lighter brown, as opposed to her father's blacker, coarser hair. The beautiful young lady's name is Ceres Stone. Like her father, she was still getting over the death of the third part of their family, Sicily Stone, who had died from cancer only 3 years ago, but came to this party because it was unheard of for important government officials and their families not attend. So they both had mentally prepared themselves for this showcase in decadence, though neither of them was really interested in this farce, the "customary" Emperor's Ball. I mean really; World War III just ended two years ago, half the Imperial Army is still overseas, and the nation is still fighting a civil war with the last remaining terrorist groups and this is a time for this kind of a waste of money? Government stupidity at its best, yes indeed! Stone hid his disdain and walked through the main doors to the Imperial Palace.

* * *

><p>The palace itself was a monolithic structure and the central part of a huge palace complex, located in the southeastern portion of Washington D.C., south of the Anacostia River, taking up the entirety of Wards 7 and 8. The expansion has taken such precedence with the various Emperors that the Naval Support Facility at Anacostia and Boiling Air Force Base were moved just south of Fort Meade, and Blue Plains Treatment Plant was moved just south out of Washington. The palace, originally quite small, has expanded exponentially, covering a total land area more than twice the size of downtown Washington, D.C., which has been controversial at times as this area was historically home to much of the city's black population. The actual Royal Palace is a mixture many building styles known in Europe and America: Baroque, Neoclassical, Renaissance Revival, and Gothic Revival. The newer palaces around it were built using various newer styles such as Postmodernism. This clash of old versus new is, unusual, to say the least. Most just think it's downright ugly. Others say it is one of the most unique clusters of buildings in the world. Either way, it was here and it wasn't going anywhere.<p>

* * *

><p>The father and daughter walked up the huge daunting steps to the well lit open doorway, paying attention to the men standing on either side of them all the way up the steps. These men were clad in huge medieval-looking suits of armor. The armor had huge symbols on them that represented the crest of the Royal Family. The armor, while looking ancient, were actually fully integrated autonomous battle suits, made with the cutting edge of technology. These armor clad warriors were the Praetorian Guard, the protectors of the Emperor, prepared to strike down even the president if he stepped out of line. As the father and daughter team walked through the large, wooden, heavy doors of the palace, they were greeted by…yellow.<p>

The entire atrium was covered with golden sheet: the columns, the walls…well, everything except the floors, ceiling and stairs (they were a shiny reflective marble). People crowded the compact atrium halls, walking up and down the grand staircase opposite the main door. Doors on either side of the long room were also filled to the brim with people. The Stones walked toward the grand staircase in front of them, carefully flanked by black suited Secret Service men on all sides. People cleared the center of the room to allow the president and his entourage to pass, all the while whispering and murmuring amongst themselves. The President himself didn't pay them any mind. He walked up the grand staircase, the top of which split in three directions: on either side of the walkway at the top was a path leading to more stairs that led to the balcony at the top of this room and the third floor, while right in front of the staircase's top level was a large door attended to by two servants.

Both servants looked at the president and said, "Welcome to the party Mr. President," subsequently opening the doors for the Stones. What greeted the Stones was an elegant, exquisitely decorated ballroom, complete with bright chandeliers and a pristine floor you could see yourself in. A live band was playing a light, slow jazz piece, with some party members even up dancing. The president looked around to see who had showed up, though he already knew who to expect: he saw congressmen from national, dominion, provincial, and state level governments; he saw governors, lieutenant governors, parliamentarians, his own cabinet members, lower members of the aristocracy, and the heads of various government and military organizations, from the head of FEMA to the Field Marshal of the Army.

"You having a good time, sir?"

As he already knew who was speaking to him, he didn't turn around when he answered, "I haven't exactly been here too long, but I can already tell it's going to be a waste of my precious time."

The man the president was speaking to was Generalissimo Gene Schneider, supreme commander of the American Imperial Armed Forces. As generalissimo, Schneider was Commander and chief, and ranked above the Five Star ranked military leaders. He had served under President Stone when he was Generalissimo during World War III, and now answers only to himself, in this "rank above ranks." The president had known the man personally since he had made brigadier general many years ago, and had personally promoted him to his current rank, much to Gene's delight. The president turned around to shake hands with his old comrade and friend.

"How are you old friend," Schneider asked in a soft congenial tone, not the usual tone of a military officer, especially one who has had a career as extensive as the 5'4", handsome, brunette Schneider's.

"Ah, so-so. I'm starting to understand what people mean when they say this is a life ending job. And you don't look much better! In fact, you look more haggard than I do!"

"Well, Mr. President, I haven't slept in 72 hours."

"72 hours!"

"Yes. As you know, I have been in South America planning strategy with several generals who are still fighting the good fight against the leftist rebels down there. In fact, I would still be there if it wasn't for this party."

"Yes I can understand what you mean."

President Adoniah Stone paused to study the countenance of his old brother in arms. He did look truly exhausted, worn, and worrisome, as if he was holding the entire country on his shoulders, and one wrong move would send it all crashing to the ground. Stone had seen this look before, in his own father, who had to take care of him and his five siblings. Stone could also see anxiousness in Gene's eyes, which was also familiar, for he too was anxious: anxious to get out of here. These two military men were peas in a pod, fish out of water, both stuck in a situation neither one was particularly accustomed to, forced to keep up appearances of being amused when they both only wanted to get back to work. Neither one was anti-social; on the contrary, they both loved company. But, this level of decadence was just overly excessive to two very simple men.

"Why don't you make the most of this situation Schneider? Use the party to relax and enjoy yourself!"

"With all due respect, Mr. President, I'm only here to be seen. I have no intention of staying more than an hour."

"You're lucky then!"

The two men laughed and shook hands, then parted ways. The generalissimo was migrating towards the other military officers, while the president was moving towards the higher ups in American politics, his premiers.

* * *

><p>The Premiers were some of the most powerful men in the government. Originally appointed by the Emperor, a 2001 constitutional amendment changed this so that they are now appointed by the president and confirmed by congress; even so, they were usually old money of the Empire who had a lot of connections, ruling their territory with great power. These premiers are the heads of the dominions: the American Empire's political divisions between that of the federal government and the provinces and states, giving an intermediate to the four institutions. The leaders of these dominions were all acquainted with President Stone, as he had personally appointed all of them. Most were old soldier buddies of his, but some were members of his political party, the Federalist Party, a center-right pro-federalism political party that balanced out the more reactionary, pro-imperial Republican Party, center left pro-states rights Democratic Party, and the liberal, almost radical Progressive Party. The premiers (and there adjutants who took their places if they were no longer able to do their jobs), whether members of his political party or not, were all loyal to their president, and worked well with him-that is, except for the newest amongst their fold…<p>

* * *

><p>The president walked through two large double doors leading out of the main ballroom that lead to a wide dimly lit hallway. In this hallway, were many closed doors and right next to the two double doors on either side of the hallway were staircases leading up to the third floor balconies, where the "Old Money" of the empire and its most politically powerful looked down upon the "Nouveau Riche" and those lesser men in the government. The president, while standing in the middle of the door way could here light moaning from some rooms. He realized these were the "private rooms" where the rich could have their desires satisfied, for one must realize that the Emperor held great power in his palaces. Aries Villa was usually the home of the emperor's "Hellfire Club," but it seems that today, some rooms in the palace were being set aside for the Club's normal purpose of giving concubines and fully automated sex dolls to the rich, famous and powerful. The president threw a sigh of relief that his daughter decided to mix with friends in the main ballroom instead of coming with him. Quickly regaining his composure, he swung a right, going up one of the staircases to the third floor.<p>

Once on the second floor, he was met with an even darker hallway that seemed to go on forever in both directions. He also could smell a horribly strong stench that he quickly realized was tobacco. _I hate cigarettes,_ he thought to himself. Trying not to think about it too much, he brushed through the obnoxious smoke as he made his way to a door to his right that lead to one of the balconies overlooking the main ballroom.

* * *

><p>"Well, nice to see you've finally arrived old man!"<p>

Stone smirked and replied "Don't know what you're talking about young blood! I could still beat you in a foot race!"

The president closed the door behind him and took a seat in the balcony room. Inside this private room were the premiers, the heads of the dominions and their vice premiers. The man who was talking so openly with the president was the Vice President himself, Ray Jacobs.

"Yeah, I still wouldn't race you, as you would probably hurt yourself," Ray replied. Ray had known the president's family for many years, having been next door neighbors with them. While Stone sought the military to escape his hard life, Ray had sought education. He did everything possible in school to ensure grants, scholarships, and accolades came his way, and he succeeded, eventually being accepted into the University of Houston, and then, into Harvard. He became a senator for the increasingly powerful Federalist Party, and when Stone accepted his nomination for president, he did not forget his old friend.

Ray took a seat next to his aging counterpoint who was wearing a simple gray suit. He looked around at the other politicians in the room: Franz Holden, Premier of North America, standing next to his vice premier Chester Roberts; Josiah Ferdinand, Premier of South America, sitting next to his V.P. Jésus Diego; Willard Sheldon, Premier of Australasia, sitting across from his V.P. Avon Jones; Charles Hopkins, Premier of Britain, standing behind his V.P. Ray Carter; Dwight Freeman, Premier of Indonesia, who was standing and talking to his V.P. Rodney Cunningham; Percy Jones, Premier of Oceania, who was having a drink offered to him by his V.P. Mark Kent; Riley Smith, Premier of the Atlantic, who was not on speaking terms with his nearby V.P., Hector Voltaire, as he had slept with his wife; John Riker, Premier of the Philippines, who was accepting a drink from (and feeling up) a servant girl who had also just served his V.P. Lawrence Carlisle; Nicholas Nolte, Premier of the Caribbean, who was flirting with his V.P. Sarah Moreno, the only female premier in history; Victor Banks, Premier of the Chinese Territories, who was reading a book and sitting behind his V.P. Ray Burrows; Hank Warren, Premier of Gibraltar was fast asleep while his V.P. Rock Ford was looking out over the ballroom from the balcony; and then there was Jack Hannigan, Premier of the Middle Eastern States, who was not here as he was downstairs having sex with a concubine, and his V.P. Shawn Spear, who was also not here because he was sick. Representing Japan was the V.P. Rob Hort, who was leaned back in a chair relaxing, but the newest premier, the actual Premier of Japan, was nowhere to be found.

'Where is the new guy," the president asked somewhat annoyed.

"Hell if we know,' Chester Roberts responded. Since he was the Premier of North America, the center of the empire, he had somewhat more authority than everyone else, though officially, everybody was on equal footing.

"So what is on the agenda for tonight gentlemen," the president asked sincerely.

"Partying," Jésus Diego replied jovially.

Chester shot a look at Diego, then turned to the president stating in his usual dry formal voice, "Nothing for the time being. Not until you know who arrives."

Just then, the door to the balcony was kicked open, startling everyone present and waking up Hank Warren. The young man who had so rudely disturbed the peace of the room wore a flashy all purple aristocratic suit, as if to purposely contrast with the darker blacks, blues, and grays worn by the other premiers. He was a young, Germanic man, with dark blond hair and blue eyes, who had chiseled boyish looks, and wore a somewhat annoying grin on his face. This young man's name is Clovis la Britannia, Premier of Japan, and Third Prince of the American Royal Family.

"Well hello gentlemen," Clovis shouted enthusiastically, while all the more clutching the two women under each of his arms.

"You're late," Stone replied, unamused at the crown prince's antics.

"I wasn't under the impression that there was a certain time I had to be here."

"Don't worry about it! If anyone arrives after the president arrives, he considers them late," Josiah Ferdinand replied.

"But, really now! Tell those two floozies to go about their own business. We have more important things to discuss," Chester added.

"Floozies," one girl replied in anger.

"Now now, gentlemen! There's no need to be so base! Don't worry girls! We'll continue later on this evening." And with that, Clovis gave his two "friends" deep kisses and "friendly" pats on their posteriors, sending them away and closing the doors behind them. At that moment one could hear the words, "skirt chaser" uttered by one of the other gentlemen. Though Clovis heard it, he paid it no mind.

"Well, that was very professional," Clovis said still wearing his annoying grin.

"Sit down Lothario," Rock Ford says nonchalantly. Clovis obediently did so.

The president sits down right in front of Clovis, looks him square in the eyes and states, "Well Clovis, this is the first time we've actually all met like this. You are the newest amongst us, so all eyes are on you. You are a popular socialite in public, but now you must be a good statesman as well. As you know, the situation is intense; the man you are replacing, Rupert Grant, was well respected and professional, as I expect you to act, and he was only the fifth premier in our nation's history to be assassinated. He was killed by Japanese nationals fighting for Japan's independence. Though this nationalist movement has only a small following, it is well funded, organized, and led by former top military officials. You must know that you are inheriting a volatile situation and are coming in behind a popular leader that you will be expected to imitate. Now I feel that you are not prepared for this, but of course, your status is not entirely up to me. I will, however, ask that you make decisions carefully, and to remember that every decision, whether good or bad, reflects on all of us."

Clovis looked at the president, not changing his expression, and said, "Mr. President, I am more than prepared to live up to everyone's expectations."

"Words are one thing, actions are another," Chester replied, deadpan.

"It isn't that we don't trust that you will try to do the right thing, it's that we worry you won't even know what the right thing is when you have to do it."

"There's also the fact that you're a philanderer and will probably get into a scandal sooner or later, most likely sooner," John Riker added, drawing glances from everyone in the room, as it was well known that Riker was an infamous womanizer.

Clovis brushed that last remark aside, adding, "I promise to be on my best behavior, scouts honor!"

"That's not the issue…," the president broke in.

"Don't worry Mr. President! While I'm slightly new at this, I think you can agree that no one is ready to deal with a powerful, homegrown rebellion, am I right? You would have to deal with same thing with anyone in my position."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call them powerful," Chester scoffed.

"Look, Clovis, this isn't just about the rebels, alright? It's about everything else, plus the rebels! I don't think you're ready to handle it all…"

All of a sudden, a servant came through the door and said, "Mr. President, the emperor would like to see you. Please come with me."

"Well Clovis, I guess we will have to continue this discussion later."

"It's okay Mr. President, I look forward to speaking with you again before I leave for Japan!"

The president stood up to leave with the servant, only to watch as the servant was nearly knocked down by Reece Sanders, the President's Chief of Staff.

"I made it guys," Sanders added as he walked through the door.

"Your late," the president responded.

* * *

><p>"Wow, Ceres! You look great!"<p>

"Thank you!"

Ceres Stone was born to her military father while he was still rising in his career. As such, she moved around a lot and was never able to really meet friends. As her father moved up in rank, he moved around much less, until he finally began to stay in one place for extended periods of time. He found a permanent home in Washington D.C. once he obtained the rank of General, but as a trade off, he was home much less than before. His daughter didn't mind though-she could make many friends now. Ceres lived most of her teenage life in Washington, eventually going to, and graduating from, George Washington University; afterward, she began to go to Harvard Law School, somewhat against her father's will, as he wanted her to stay close. She fell out of contact with her family over her years of studying, though it struck her that she has never really had good communication with her parents, especially her father…

She was at school when she first heard her mother had died, and returned to Washington for the first time in five years for the funeral. It was in 2019, a couple of months before the start of World War III. Her father was still Generalissimo. Her mother had suffered from the cancer for two years, but never wanted her daughter to know, afraid she would stop focusing on her studies. In many ways, Ceres felt anger for this. How could her mother not tell her she was dying? And then, die without saying so much as goodbye? Ceres always thought she could find solace in her mother since she very well couldn't really talk to her aloof father, and now even her mother has betrayed her. Her relationship with her father grew strained and World War III and his subsequent run for election only widened the divide. Now, her only friends are these shallow people who think themselves the greatest their country has to offer, riding off of their parent's fortunes without even having the sense of mind to actually prepare to take care of their own inheritance…

"So Ceres, I hear your birthday is coming up!" This came from a young girl in an elegant white dress sitting across the table. She had long hair that was to the inhuman color of Fandango, a light Fuchsia, most likely the result of genetic manipulation, though her hair seemed to be graying, most likely because genetic manipulation is still in its infancy.

"Yes, it is Princess Euphemia! It's June 18! By the way, how did you know?"

"Your father the President told me, if you will forgive me for being nosy! Oh, and you can just call me Euphemia, or Euphy, since that's what all my friends call me!"

Euphemia Li Britannia, Third Crown Princess of the American Royal Family, was never the most worldly, realistic or knowledgeable person in her huge family, but she was, always sincere, kind, and personable. She had tried from day one to be friends with Ceres, despite the age difference (Ceres was 30, while Euphemia was 16); Ceres saw her as annoying and sheltered originally, though has grown to tolerate her. Euphemia apparently always saw Ceres as a big sister figure.

"No, I have no problem with my father telling you my birthday."

"Great! We'll have to do something special to celebrate!"

"That's not really necess…"

"No, I insist! Oh, we must go to that new Italian restaurant on the other side of river…"

"She said she didn't want to celebrate with you twit!" These harsh words came from a much younger girl (she was 14) with auburn or dishwater blond hair tied into angel wings, who was sitting at the same table between the two older women. This was Karine Le Britannia.

"Karine, stop being so mean to your sister, I mean really!"

"I was just saying what you wanted to say bitch! By the way, isn't your father leaving for Jerusalem to discuss the final peace treaty to the war?"

"Yes."

"Damn, I was hoping it all fall apart and we'd go to war again!"

"What!"

"Karine, why would you say that!"

"Oh come off it! That war was the most interesting thing to happen in years!"

"There is nothing interesting about war Karine," Euphemia retorted, trying to remain calm but firm.

"Fuck that! Everything about war is interesting. When I'm old enough I'll join the academy and become a military officer!"

"Humph! They won't let you anywhere near the front with that kind of attitude." These words came from behind Karine. The woman who said that to them was a tall, stout, regal woman of 28 years, who had what, could best be described as Lilac colored hair. Guinevere Su Britannia took a seat at the same table as the other girls. She seemed to glide gracefully to her chair, which was fitting, as she was _the_ Crown Princess, the first among the Emperor's daughters, so she had to present an air of sophistication.

"Yeah whatever," Karine replied, crossing her arms and pouting.

"Anyway, Euphemia, how is your sister," Guinevere continued, completely ignoring Karine altogether.

"Oh, well, Cornelia's still stationed in the Middle East, but she treats it more like a vacation than anything else," Euphemia added jovially.

"Yes, I heard she was just chasing some more of those Arab rats that refused to lie down and die after the war," Guinevere stated nonchalantly

"Huh, chasing weak little Arab nomads is never fun," Karine added haughtily. "Don't you agree Ceres?"

Karine turned to see that Ceres was looking somewhat uncomfortable at the moment.

"What! I said Arab nomads, not African Bushmen?"

"Karine shut the hell up," Guinevere interjected.

"Whatever, bitches," Karine retorted, adding that last word under her breath.

II

President Stone walked down the wide hallway, being sure to note the vaulted ceilings and beautiful Greek Arches. As he walked down the large hallway, he constantly passed Praetorian Guard, who, standing still and silent, seemed to not notice the president passing by, though the president knew that under their armored helmets and face masks they were watching him intently. As he slowly walked down the hallway staring at the armored men, someone caught him on his shoulder.

"Hello Mr. President, I see you too have been summoned to see the Emperor! Oh! Did I scare you? Sorry, I guess I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that!"

"Darn it Mikkel! Please, don't do that! I already have bad nerves!"

Mikkel Sigfried Nicklaus was one of the most powerful men in the Empire, arguably, more powerful than the president himself. He was Grand Vizier, a position that made him the highest ranked official in the Royal Court. It was actually seen as unusual for someone outside the Royal Family to have the position, as it would normally be held by the Crown Prince, however, Prince Odysseus eu Britannia, the current First Prince, chose to give the position to Mikkel, an old friend who graduated from college at 16, became a certified Rhodes Scholar at 18, became mayor of his city at 20, and became state governor of New York at 26. Mikkel himself talked big about wanting to help reform the government when he first got the position, but he hasn't done much of that. However, Mikkel himself is still one of the most powerful men in the government and could probably change the government if he wanted to, but it seems he has lost the fire for that as of late.

"So, what are you being called for," Mikkel asked in his usual cheery voice.

"I wasn't told, just summoned; how about you?"

"Same as you I'm afraid."

"I guess that makes three of us." These words startled Mikkel and Stone. They turned to see a tall, extremely handsome 27 year old man walking up behind them. He was the epitome of the "Master Race" concept; he stood around 5'9", had a good body build, and had some of the most delicate, smooth skin the president thought he had ever seen on a Germanic man. He had beautiful, bright blond hair, blue eyes, and chiseled looks that were said to melt the hearts of women everywhere. His name is Schneizel el Britannia, Second Prince and acting CEO of the company General Resource, a corporation owned by the Royal Family and its only source of income. Schneizel himself was an unusual man: he wasn't really all that ambitious, despite being the Second Prince, thus placing him in line for the throne, and he was a man who did not seem to have too many desires; he was just content.

"So gentlemen, shall we not keep the old man waiting," Schneizel continued, walking right past the two men. The two other gentlemen, seeing no reason to continue discourse, followed behind.

* * *

><p>The three gentlemen reached the end of the hallway and were greeted by large, heavy wooden doors. The doors opened and an older gentleman with a balding head and sharp features walked out and said, "The Emperor will see you now gentlemen." This man, who was Mayor of the Palace Oliver White, bowed before the prestigious gentlemen and stepped aside, gesturing his arm to let them pass. The men passed through the large doors, which White quickly closed behind them, and stepped into a large, dark room, lit only with aroma candles. The president looked his sides to the far flung walls, and could just barely make out figures in the dimness. <em>They must be the Janissary, the Emperor's personal guard detachment<em>, he thought to himself. He could only just see the heavy exo-suits the powerful knights wore, and large, intimidating assault rifles they held.

The Grand Vizier paid more attention to his front, where he could see various female forms moving seductively around a large throne. He could tell by their "stimulating" outfits that they were not among the Emperor's 108 consorts (lesser wives), but among his 200 and something concubines. The Emperor had the power to make any woman in the Empire a concubine (as long as she was unmarried and at least 15) and he liberally used this power: everyone from movie stars to business women were his lovers, and what's more, it was considered an honor to "serve" the Empire this way, as it is from the concubines that consorts were chosen, and it was from the consorts that the Empress Consort, the Emperor's "true wife", was chosen. The women licked themselves (and each other) sexily, looking directly at Mikkel. Though Mikkel nodded back to them, he knew that so much as touching a concubine was grounds for "bad things happening to you".

The Prime Minister, however, was looking directly at the man who sat on the throne. Emperor Charles zi Britannia, sat leisurely on his throne, surrounded by 40 women, all pleasuring themselves and each other for his entertainment, yet the entire expression on his face simply said "Whatever." The now 63 year old man sat lazily in his chair, his head resting on his fist, his aged, hawk like features relaxed into a kind of daze. His white hair accentuated his grave appearance, making him look as a ghost in the dim lighting. Despite the constant moaning and grunting by the women around him, he looked unfazed and uninterested. He only stared on blankly at the three men that had just walked into his domain. The Prime Minister angled his eyes downward to see that others had been summoned as well. Already on their knees, bowed before the Emperor was the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, National Security Advisor, Chief of Staff to the President, Deputy National Security Advisor, Director of National Intelligence, the Generalissimo, the Chief of the ISS, the entire Imperial Cabinet, Director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, Imperial Chamberlain, Grand Inquisitor, Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Civil Security Advisor, Chief of Staff to the Vice President, and standing behind them all was the Knight of One, the head of the Royal Knights himself, Bismarck Waldstein.

"You're late," Bismarck states.

"Late? We were just summoned," the president retorts.

"Damn messengers were goofing off again then!"

All of a sudden, the front door opened again, and Vice President Ray Jacobs walked through, strolled right up to the president, and said "Well, he summoned me too." It was then that the president realized that what the Emperor had convened here was a meeting of the American Security Staff; both the National and Homeland Security Councils in their entirety.

The four newest arrivals walked forward between those already bowing before the Emperor, and did the same. Bismarck Waldstein looked up toward the Emperor and bellowed out, "Everyone is assembled my lord!"

"Excellent." The large, muscled man shifted himself into a relaxed position. He was wearing a black suit with white pinstripes, a black tie, a white dress shirt, and white gloves, with a white boutonniere in his suit pocket for added effect. The gruff gentleman, crossed his legs and bellowed, "Gentlemen, I'm sorry to have called you here during the party, but I realize this maybe the last time I get to speak to all of you like this for some time. I would like you to give me a sitrep on the nation's current situation, a kind of "State of the Empire" address for me. Will you start first Mr. President? Oh, and you all may stand up and take a seat. Seats for the gentlemen please?"

The Emperor's handmaidens, his personal servants (and unofficial harem) brought seats to the other men who all sat in a line in front of the emperor. Normally they would all sit at a table, and sitting like this made them feel strangely like they were on trial.

The president spoke up saying, "My Lord..."

"Please call me Emperor, Stone. Saying "My Lord" makes me feel like you think I'm Jesus or something."

"Yes sir, Emperor. Well sir, as you probably know, the biggest issues we have now is self-defense, signing a peace treaty to end the war, and rebuilding. Our nation, however, faces a myriad of financial, ecological and military problems. Such as for example…"

"For example," the Secretary of the Interior, Peter Rush interjected, "the fact that we are facing a drought in the western states. There is also the disappearance of the Louisiana wetlands. Right now Lake Salvador is part of Barataria Bay, making New Orleans beachfront property, and by the way, that city is still underwater. Of course, now that the Old River Control Structure has been destroyed, the Mississippi River has switched course, which means we may no longer have to rebuild the city anyway. But thousands of oil refineries and miles of port facilities are now at risk of being destroyed by future hurricanes…"

"Excuse me," the Emperor interrupted, "I thought you said our main worries were security issues?"

Rush stiffened and replied, "My liege, these are National Security issues! They affect our ability to do business and keep our citizens from dying of thirst! Several of our more desert states are losing population. As a result, we may see a dramatic population shift, and maybe even a refugee situation."

"And it isn't just the environment my lord," says Sandra Frost, Secretary of the Treasury, "Our nation is approaching bankruptcy! The war, the energy crisis, terrorist attacks, and a growing national debt are draining our coffers! The national debt is currently 200% of our GDP; we can no longer afford to operate normally, we are on the verge of economic ruin! We can't pay for basic services. And with the energy crisis, stock market crash, and current economic depression, things will only get worse from here. Low taxes and increasing cost for social programs are destroying us. This isn't taking into account our battles with the rebel groups, as well as the troops we still have occupying foreign soil."

The Emperor didn't change his expression or position; in fact, he didn't even look alarmed. He simply replied dryly, "Why don't we just tighten our belts? Cut cost and raise taxes? Surely you know how to balance a checkbook?"

Sandra, not knowing what to say, leaned back a bit, and answered, "Well, you see, um…"

"Oh, I see," the Emperor states, leaning down with a sly look on his face, "you don't want to make the necessary changes because you're afraid of damaging yourself politically, eh? Let me guess: only the most politically unfeasible budget cuts will save us now? Do you want me to, perhaps, send out an Imperial decree to, say, cut funding to some programs, maybe remove some government organizations right?"

Sandra looked down, avoiding the Emperor's knowing gaze. She didn't respond to the question.

"Mrs. Sandra, I want a full financial report on my desk in within two weeks outlying our financial situation in its entirety. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir, Emperor."

"Mr. President, how goes our negotiations on that peace treaty, hmmm?"

"Well, Emperor, right now there are negotiations regarding foreign occupation. There talks to create an international security mission for the purpose of rebuilding various nations affected by the war, called the International Security Assistance Force or ISAF for short. Its purpose will be to secure various nations currently in a state of anarchy and assist in rebuilding, primarily, former members of the Unified Forces, though also some Allied Forces members."

"Well Mr. President, what do they want our troop commitment to be?"

"Well, they project that we need to send at least 1,000,000 troops. We are still calculating the amount of equipment necessary."

The others present in the room downcast their eyes and didn't make eye contact with anyone else. The Emperor narrowed his eyes and said, "Exactly, how many troops is that, in terms of what other countries are sending?"

"That would make our troops 80% of ISAF."

The Emperor, for the first time since the meeting began, shifted his position, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, allowing one to see clearly that he had a cloak draped over his back; though he did not change his expression or pitch of his voice, he was starting to sound perturbed.

"Are you serious?"

"Well we are still negotiating…"

All of sudden, the Emperor raised his voice, getting a little extra edge on it and said, "Well you damn well better! Really, do they want us to take care of the world? Really? Are we the global police that they can call out to handle their shit? Why don't they get those damn Africans to pitch in more? Hell, they barely took any damage, and not one nuke fell on them! They might as well stop being a burden to everyone else!"

The Emperor leaned back and crossed his arms. He stretched out his legs and crossed them. The President widened his eyes and everyone else looked up.

"I mean damn, we've been carrying them through their damn health crisis, while they export that shit everywhere else! It's about damn time they took some responsibility!"

The President continued to stare at the Emperor and responded, "Sir?"

The Emperor sat there, then reacted as if he had realized something, and responded, "Oh, yes! That's right! Allowing them to have substantial troops on other continents would spread the disease, wouldn't it? Yeah, I guess that was a bad idea, wasn't it? Yes, thanks for pointing that out, have the Asians pick up the slack. They've got more than enough men, right?" "

"Well sir, the Asians are embroiled in civil war, thus can't commit as many troops as we would like."

"Useless imbeciles! Anyway, to make a long story short, our National Security is pretty much shot, right? What about our Civil Security?"

The Secretary of Defense, Deo Anstice recovered and replied, "Well, good news is that the Leftist are growing weaker by the day. We have got them primarily confined to the Amazon Rainforest at this point. Their support is consistently eroding; it's only matter of time. Most other rebel groups, like the IRA, will face the same fate. As for the Japanese Liberation Front, they never had much support from the average Japanese, err, umm, American citizen in Japan, or ethnic Japanese in general. They and the various other major Japanese rebels are, however, well equipped, somewhat better than the Leftist. And we are not just talking about tanks: Mechs, Labors, Knightmare Frames, and Asian Arm Slaves. No word on whether they have any kind of aircraft. Oh, all of this is not taking into account the fact that many of the JLF's, that is to say the Japanese Liberation Front's, top echelon are former military commanders, many of them distinguished servicemen with years of service and various medals for their service, all of them World War III veterans. Oh, and a vast majority of their rank and file troops are also former servicemen. This has made them extremely hard to find and route out."

The Emperor, who had sat quietly and listened to this long explanation, quietly said, "You mentioned that the JLF had a large amount of military equipment. Have you figured out who is funding them?"

Deo looked like a deer in the headlights about to get ran over. He quickly replied, saying, "Well, that's not really my area, I mean, I don't know who you could ask, but I'm mainly worried about defense, I mean, I really…don't know. I actually haven't been in Washington since I got my position…"

The Generalissimo spoke up to bail his friend out, stating, "We believe the Fourteen Kings of Japan are funding them."

The Director of the FBI, Martin Fritz looked the president and shouted, "Generalissimo, we haven't confirmed that yet!"

"They are the only group in Japan with the resources to give that kind of funding. I am positive it's them."

The Emperor, undaunted, deepened his voice and said, "You understand what this could mean, don't you Generalissimo."

"As the Director of the FBI pointed out so quickly, Emperor, this is all conjecture at this time. We are unable to tie the Fourteen Kings to the terrorists as of yet, but I feel it is likely they are the ones supplying the rebels and it is only a matter of time before this is made known."

"Well, Mr. President, do you think that I should imperialize them?"

"No, sir; until we confirm the truth, we should not move so hastily. Imperializing the Fourteen Kings' assets at this time would raise eyebrows. We shouldn't move till we have proof that they are acting in league with terrorists."

"I see. Well thank you for the information Generalissimo. And thank you gentlemen for the update in world events. That will be all, return to the party. Oh and by the way, Mr. Anstice. The correct term you should use to refer to the "Japanese" now is Yamato. The primary race of Japan is the Yamato people. You see, saying Japanese cultivates a national identity. They aren't Japanese anymore. There is no nation of Japan. They are Americans. Though they may be of Yamato, Ainu, Ryukyuan, Korean, or some other descent, they are Americans; never call them Japanese. The JLF use "Japanese" in their rhetoric. So, naturally, we should espouse an air of inclusiveness when dealing with Japan; the Japanese are American citizens, and have all the rights and privileges we do. Japan as a nation must cease to exist in our minds if we are to ever defeat the rebels. That goes for all of you here and everyone else in the government, so spread the word. There are no Japanese. There are only Americans. The first official census we issued to the Japanese made this distinction, now it's time we started doing so as well. Good night gentlemen."

The meeting was adjourned, and all of the attendees left the room except the Emperor. The last two men to leave were the Grand Vizier and the President.

"Well that was uneventful," the Grand Vizier says in his usual jovial tone.

"Well at least it was short," the President responded.

"Huh. I mean really, he basically hands over most of the actual political power to you, and still actually cares about how the government is run."

"Hey, easy Mikkel."

"What? I can say whatever I want! This is a free country, and I can voice my opinions if I so please!"

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you. Are you going back to the party?"

"Nay, I say! I'm going out to meet some lusty wrenches and get wasted!"

"Get wasted?"

"Yes, I know! I must be getting old to use such out dated jargon, right?"

"You sure that's good for you image?"

"Image? I am the poster child of wasted potential, big government, federal cronyism, and Imperial Elitist Doctrine. Plus, I have no family or real friends. How the hell is fucking 17 year olds and getting loaded going to hurt my image, and why the hell should care? It's not like I'm an elected official or anything."

"Aren't you a Christian, Mikkel?"

"Yes, and I'm aware of my hypocrisy! You try having my job and not losing faith in humanity's right to exist! Since you're a pastor, Stone, you be the light unto the world Jesus wants us to be. Everyone else is looking at you anyway. Meanwhile, I will go out and get a little tipsy. Just a little! Can't go out and get too drunk, lest I get enough liquid courage to actually kill myself!"

Mikkel walked away humming "He's a Jolly Good Fellow", while the President looked on in amazement.


	2. Chapter 1: Kon'nichiwa, Nippon e yōkoso

_Well, here it is the second chapter in the war epic!_

**I**

"Well, this a surely dour day isn't it?"

Schneizel el Britannia looked out of the airport terminal window. The sky was dark and angry, and it looked as if the heavens were going to burst forth upon the Earth. Ironically, the weatherman said it wouldn't rain today.

"Well, the forecaster said that it would be sunny in Tokyo, so I'm not complaining."

Prince Clovis, Schniezel's half-brother and the man who had replied, was sitting down in a nearby chair, reading a woman's magazine because it was filled with swimsuits and dresses he had designed. The terminal itself was lavishly decorated, filled to the brim with beautiful Victorian furnishings and tapestries made with such expensive items as gold and porcelain. The terminal was a part of the huge Royal Airport, where the Emperor's Royal Air Fleet is stored. They were 14.5 miles east of Washington, along the banks of the quaint Patuxent River, just where Pennsylvania Avenue ends and Southern Maryland Blvd. begins. Today was the day that Clovis would begin his new job as Premier. He wasn't particularly nervous, but a little apprehensive, considering the mess he was about to inherit from his successor. But he tried to seem calm, knowing full well that he could never show fear.

Schneizel, on the other hand, was truly as calm as ever. He watched as Clovis's plane, the Dove One, part of the Emperor's Air Fleet, was prepped to transport its primary occupants, Clovis and Japan's Vice Premier Rob Hort. Though he remained outwardly relaxed, he had something on his mind, something he had to express with his brother now that they were alone.

"Clovis, I'm glad you've received your position," he begins, turning around and showing a cheery smile on his face, "but there is something I must know. What will you do about Code-R?"

Clovis put down the magazine abruptly and said, "What the hell are you doing asking that here? You know goddamn well what I'm going to do about it! I told you I've wiped my hands of it."

"You are my head of research and I want you to continue to oversee it."

"You know all too well that in my current position that is no longer possible."

"I still want you to oversee it, though you don't have to remain directly involved. I'm sending the subject over to the Rosenberg Test Facilities in Japan. See that it gets there safely, will you?"

Clovis was about to protest loudly when an airport worker came in and said, "Master Clovis, the plane is ready for departure."

"Thank you," Clovis said gritting his teeth.

"Well Clovis, I guess I'll be off," Schneizel adds, after which he quickly walks out.

* * *

><p>"English was taught in schools as the new main language; the teaching of English was so successful that now, only 5% of Japanese can read, write, orand speak the native language. Western names are on the rise among Japanese, and 80% of Japanese self-identify as American. The success of this conversion was proven when, in 1980, Japan became a dominion. Amazingly, in what has been called the Japanese Economic Miracle, Japan has grown from a starving region, to having one of the largest most thriving economies on Earth. Unfortunately, the recent worldwide economic collapse hit Japan hardest, and being the center of the Pacific theater of another world war only made matters worse… Are you even listening anymore?"

Clovis stared out the window of the plane, looking as they crossed the Pacific Ocean on their way to their destination. He didn't turn to look at cultural adviser Khary Granger when he said, "Wow, I can't believe we're almost there."

Granger, who held an official position in Japanese dominion government as a cultural expert, contorted his face and said, "You really aren't listening are you?"

They were sitting over 2,000 feet above the Pacific Ocean. The plane they were in was an R-505U, a supersonic passenger jet, the fastest in history, commissioned to replace the Concorde. Of course, Clovis already knew this, so he wasn't really surprised they were almost there.

"What I want to know is why you're giving me all these facts."

"Because if you want to rule this nation, you must understand its past and culture!"

"Japan is no longer a country!"

"But it was a country, with a distinct history, and it still has a distinct culture and somewhat of a national identity, at least amongst the Yamato people."

"Why should I care about their damn culture!"

"Because how can you rule a people if you don't understand them! While yes, the greater American culture is prevalent there and the dominion is thoroughly westernized, remember that it was the last dominion, and traditional values are strong here. For example, while Christianity growing in prominence and influence, is still a minority religion in Japan, unlike just about everywhere else, and is as exotic to the Japanese as their national religion, Shintoism, is to us."

Clovis still couldn't find any interest in Japan, what he was more interested in was…

"Can you tell me about the current nationalist movement there?"

"Why, yes. Its origins lie with the prestigious Kururugi family, which was a family famous for producing powerful politicians in Japan's, and, sometimes, the national geopolitical landscape. However, 10 years ago, during the reign of Premier Genbu Kururugi, there was a major constitutional crisis; a far right, pro-Japanese independence party, called the Nippon Renaissance Party, actually took the majority of Japan's legislature, the Diet. They openly criticized the Imperial government and the Emperor, and set about carrying out various reforms, such removing the Christian cross from in front of the Diet and making firearms illegal, as well as pushing to open classes that taught Japanese. It was the first time Japanese nationalism had been on the front stage since the Post-War Rebuilding Period. The Emperor responded by declaring the party illegal, stating that it was supporting terrorism, and commanding Kururugi to hold new elections. Genbu stated such actions were unconstitutional, that a group could not be considered a terrorist organization unless there was substantial proof, and that the Emperor had no right to disband the organization. The Emperor responded by asking Parliament to send the Republican Guard to remove the Diet and Genbu by force, which they did. Genbu mobilized the State Defense Force and Self Defense Forces to respond, while individual nobles in Japan sent their National Guard units to aid the Republican Guard, leading to a standoff. Many wondered whether Genbu would actually use Japanese Forces to fight the government, but it didn't come to that point. Elite Republican Guard Forces attacked the Kururugi mansion. It's not known what happened, but when it was over, Genbu was dead, and the nationalist party was disbanded by force. Controversy continues to this day. Genbu is survived by his son, Suzaku, but he joined the military, not the current nationalists."

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen, we will be arriving at Tokyo International Airport in five minutes", said the plane's captain over the loud speaker.

"Ah, we're almost at Haneda Airport. Well sir, I guess we will just pick this up later, right?"

At this point, Clovis was no longer listening.

* * *

><p>The jet decreased its speed and let down its landing gear. Having adjusted its flight path, the large R-505U slowly eased its way toward the fourth runway at Tokyo's Haneda Airport, known officially as Tokyo International Airport. Clovis looked out of the plane's window to see the blue waters of Tokyo Bay where the airport was actually located, built on reclaimed land, a necessity for many of Japan's largest airports. As the plane landed he could see large holes in the walls of the three terminal buildings; these were caused by missile attacks and artillery shelling. During the war, the Occupation of Japan in particular, the airport was used as an air base, and was the target of constant attacks by American forces during Japan's liberation and the Battle of Tokyo. The airport itself was indicative of the city as a whole. The reminders of the Occupation and the many battles to liberate Japan were everywhere: buildings either toppled, crumbling, or blown up, landmines still planted in the mountains, military equipment strewn about the countryside, whole neighborhoods wiped out. In Shinjuku, Tokyo's central business area and skyscraper district, the damage was blatantly obvious, its tall office buildings broken, and burned out. Some skyscrapers had even toppled over and were now being partially held up by other skyscrapers they were leaning on. The only building lacking extensive visible damage was the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, the center of city government; but it did have something else, a bigger reminder of just how bad things were: a defective ICBM carrying an Asian non-nuclear superweapon that had not exploded lay on the side of the building. Had it exploded, millions could have died. Only now was the missile being removed…<p>

* * *

><p>"Hello, Premier Clovis!"<p>

Rob Hort, who had avoided Clovis the whole flight, met Clovis on the runway. A limousine was waiting for them nearby. Nobody else was there. In fact, the entire airport was empty.

"Where is everyone," Clovis asked.

"To tell you the truth, the airport is still closed due to damage it suffered during the war. The only people here are us, armed guards and men to service the airplane," Hort replied. He continued, "Come this way my lord, I have someone I want you to meet."

Hort led the way as Clovis and Granger followed him. As they walked over toward the limousine, one of the rear doors opened, out stepped a distinctly Asian man wearing a black suit with medals and rank insignia on it.

"Hello, my name is General Ryoto Seiko. I am the head of the Japan branch of the Self Defense Forces. I will be your top military adviser while you serve us! There are also commanders in charge of the State Defense Force in each state and in charge of the National Guard in each Province who you can command in times of emergencies, but they are usually not under your command. There are a few military elements as well, but, as you have probably already guessed, they are not under your command. The same goes for the Royal Knight battalion stationed in Tokyo. I look forward to serving you your highness," Seiko tried to shake the Prince's hand, but Clovis pulled back, turned towards Hort and said, "Why is a Japanese the head of defense?"

Seiko's face immediately took on a look of horror and Hort spoke quickly to diffuse the situation, "Well, my lord, he is a decorated soldier and he isn't Japanese, he's American…"

"That's right! And by the way, I never was Japanese, I am Ainu. Those racist Yamato bastards in the Japanese Liberation Front don't like us too much. After the Second War, the Ainu were culturally protected by the Empire and our lands were separated into their own dominion apart from Japan; all native Japanese in my home of Hokkaidō were returned to the other islands, allowing my people to flourish culturally and population wise, something that never would have happened under Japanese rule. We Ainu are loyal to America, as are the Ryukyu people, and now that most of the Yamato military leaders have joined the Japanese Liberation Front, Ainu and Ryukyu commanders control the dominion based SDF and National Guard, so don't you worry about traitors."

"We'll see," Clovis added nonchalantly.

* * *

><p>The limousine sped along the freeway, careful to avoid the holes in it where bombs had fallen. The freeway itself was vacant, as it had not yet been repaired, but it was structurally stable, so the limo simply followed the path that the construction vehicles normally took.<p>

"Why are we on this crumbling road," Clovis asked, though sounding like he didn't particularly care about getting an answer to his question.

"Because it's safe, number one, and because it's fast," Hort responded.

"This is safe?"

"There's no chance of running into rebels here."

"Black Rider, give us your position over," a voice over the car's radio said.

"I'm on Interstate J1, Bayshore Expressway section, heading toward Odaiba, about to get on J-401 via J-801, the Daiba Expressway. How is the Rainbow Bridge, over", the driver responded.

"Copy that. No bomb threats on the bridge today. All clear to cross."

"Bomb threats," Clovis yelled out.

"A common occurrence nowadays sir," the driver responded.

"Ah, Black Rider, we have a situation. There has been a massive explosion on J-101 in Chuo. Please divert to Interstate Beltway J-1, the Inner Loop Expressway, before you reach Shiodome. Be aware that once you reach B-J-1, the section after it intersects with Meguro Expressway is open to traffic, over," the voice came back over the radio.

"What about the Tokyo Expressway section of B-J-1?"

"It completely collapsed, remember?"

The driver sighed and replied, "Yeah, thanks. Damn! I really wanted to avoid the major roads."

"Why, what's the problem," Clovis asked.

"We'll be sitting ducks if something happens, and something's more likely to happen if we get on a major road."

"Is there a way we can clear the road?"

"In a city of 13 million or so, located in a metro area of 38 million? You serious!"

"Well, to be fair those were the pre-war population numbers, and that number is significantly less now. At least you'll get to see the Diet Building. We will also pass by Kasumigaseki, which is home to the major Cabinet Departments, Nagatacho, which is home to all kinds of places including where I'll be working, and Hayabusacho, where the Supreme Court is," Granger added.

"Question: where will I be staying anyway," Clovis asked.

"Don't you know? You will be staying at the Kyūjō," Granger responded.

"The what," Clovis retorted.

"The former Japanese Imperial Palace," Hort said blunt

**II**

"Currently, the temperature in Chiyoda Ward, Tokyo is 58 degrees Fahrenheit under fair skies."

"Hey, switch to the local news."

"Your weekly forecast…" "…The Diet has postponed its vote on tax increases for another week, in order to give time to Prince Clovis to consider the matter further and make an informed decision… Um, we have breaking news. It appears that there was an explosion on the Ueno Expressway going through the Marunouchi district of Chiyoda Ward. The military is currently investigating. There do not appear to be any reports of injuries or fatalities, probably because the freeway is closed for repair. As of now there are no reports of damage…"

"That's the cue. Let's go."

"Right."

* * *

><p>"This is Black Rider, we are currently on B-J-1, heading toward the Premier's Palace. We have yet to hit the open section over."<p>

"This is Baseplate, we copy that over."

The limousine sped down the ruined expressway, flanked by large, black SUVs. Police could be seen lining the road, clearing out construction workers.

"You think those workers will attack us," Clovis asked innocently.

"Nah, if we do get attacked, it will be when we hit the areas currently in use," the driver replied.

Clovis continued to look out the window of his vehicle, eyeing the dozens of construction workers standing behind the police line. _Any one of them could be a suicide bomber_, he thought to himself. To try and take his mind off the situation, he decided to make conversation.

"What's that big, red tower over there?"

Granger replied, "That's Tokyo Tower and its international orange, not red. It was built to be a TV antenna. It is currently closed indefinitely."

"Why?"

"During the invasion, Asian fighter jets targeted it and blew out both observation decks killing over 100 people."

"Oh."

_Well there goes that idea_, Clovis thought.

There was a bit of an awkward silence, until the driver spoke through the radio saying: "Baseplate, this is Black Rider. We are currently getting on the open portion of B-J-1."

"This is Baseplate, we copy. Keep in mind we are expecting light traffic, over."

"Copy that."

The limousine and its entourage, slowing down slightly, got on an onramp, northbound, in midst of light traffic…

* * *

><p>"This is Satoshi. Vehicle spotted. Move into position."<p>

"We hear you."

Satoshi was 216 meters above the city. Izumi Garden Tower was really the best spot he could have chosen. It was conveniently right next to B-J-1, with a nice view of the entire expressway.

"Where are you?"

"Passing Roppongi Hills."

Satoshi kept his eyes on the motorcade as it drove down the expressway, flanked by the crumbling buildings of Tokyo's Minato Ward. Traffic was present, but unusually light, though, in the wake of the war, that was to be expected.

"Where are you?"

"About to pass Tokyo Midtown. Where are they?"

"You need to move faster than that; they're almost at my position!"

Satoshi kept his eyes up as well. He was weary of helicopters. He looked over at his friend listening in on a police scanner. He shook his head. No one was sounding the alarm…yet.

"Hey, where are you guys? They are almost at Tamimachi Interchange!"

"Hey, traffic's a bitch! Stop complaining."

The motorcade passed right beneath the Garden Tower. Because of the narrowness of the expressway, were going in single file.

"They are passing the Ark Hills development."

"I know we see them."

Satoshi looked and saw five white vans and a white SUV closing in on the motorcade, which was starting to spread out again.

"Naoto!"

"Hey Naoto," a voice came over the radio, "I see them. Yeah, right there. Right there! Block him! Block him!"

* * *

><p>"This is Black Wing One, we are moving to the fast lane, over."<p>

"This is Black Rider, we copy."

The rear black SUV of the motorcade moved to the fast lane. The driver looked behind him at the two black vans following them. He did not look at the onramp coming up behind them, so he was completely taken by surprise when a large white SUV slammed into the rear passenger door of his vehicle. Black Wing One lost complete control of his vehicle and went sideways, flipped and ended up on its side. The white SUV got in the right lane to see around the sliding truck and a man leaned out of the front passenger side window with an RPG. Taking aim down his sights, the RPG carrier fired, his missile igniting right under the second black SUV behind the limousine, sending it flying into the air with a single flip that landed it on its back. The two black vans sped up to intervene, but both were slammed into and right off the expressway by two of the white vans that were following the white SUV.

"What the hell was that," Clovis yelled, turning his head to see what was going on behind them.

"Get down," Hort said, pulling the prince to the floor of the limousine

"Baseplate, this is Black Rider, we just lost four escorts, over!"

"This is Baseplate, we copy! Help is on the way!"

"Driver, get us out of here," Granger yelled.

The remainder of the motorcade sped along the expressway, turning on bullhorns to try and force traffic out of the way.

Inside the white SUV, Naoto Stadtfield, who went by his mother's maiden name of Kozuki, says to the RPG carrying miscreant sitting next to him, "Just aim for that black limousine and this will be all over."

As the RPG shooter loads another rocket into the RPG, a black SUV, one of the two from the front, pulls between them and the limousine, and all of a sudden a hatch on the top pops open and out comes a large cannon that immediately aims at them.

"Is that a fucking minigun," Naoto's balaclava wearing partner in the front seat says.

Naoto instinctively switches lanes, as does the white van immediately behind them, but the second white van is unprepared to move.

"Oh my God," the driver of the second white van says as he stares down the barrels of the spooling gun. They will be the last words he will ever say. The minigun fires, shooting at a rate of 6,000 rounds per minute, the armor piercing rounds turning the unarmored van into Swiss Cheese. The driver's face literally exploded into pieces, his body shredded as the weapon literally detached his arms, which were still grasping the steering wheel, from his torso. The cannon then swiveled, hitting the passenger square in the chest, disintegrating his entire chest cavity, spraying blood all over the driver area. However, the horror in the front area, could not match the horror in the rear compartment area. Eight, heavily armed rebels sat in this area, prepared to jump out and assault anyone, and they were completely unaware of what was going on outside. When the minigun unleashed, it ripped through the entire van, and the bodies of all the men in the back. They were blown off their seats as over a thousand bullets ricocheted through their innards. For some their body cavities completely exploded, causing all of their organs to flow out. Some, died instantly, others hit the ground still alive. If they could survive the barrage, it didn't matter, as the van's gas tank was ignited soon afterward, causing an explosion that destroyed the vehicle.

"Yeah, we got one," Clovis exclaimed, looking out the back window.

"Sir, please get down," Hort yells as he pulls Clovis back down.

"Black Rider, this is Crow One, please give me your current location," a voice coming over the radio said.

"Currently on Loop B-J-1, in Minato, northbound, about to head into Chiyoda, currently about to pass the Sanno Park Tower, over."

"Copy that. Keep in mind that you will pass through a long tunnel when you pass the Diet Building, so we won't be able to help you immediately."

"Don't worry, we aren't taking the tunnel, we are going through Kasumigaseki."

In the white SUV, a voice came out over the radio and said, "Naoto, its Satoshi. Listen, we're out of time, reinforcements will be here in minutes!"

"No, we're doing this! We will never get another chance at this," was Naoto's response.

Naoto turned to the masked man sitting beside him and said, "Ohgi, get in the back seat and roll down the window!"

The masked man crawled over the armrest, RPG in hand, and into the left rear seat behind Naoto, and rolled down his window, while Naoto sped up to try and get beside the black SUV. In response, the minigunner turned his weapon toward them and began to spin it again. However, he momentarily stopped spooling when he heard automatic gunfire. The front passenger in the last white van had pulled out an AK-74, and was attempting to shoot the gunner; however, the gunner remained unhurt, as he was surrounded by armored panels. The gunner, who was wearing black clothes, a black balaclava, and black gear, swiveled his cannon toward the white van as they passed the Vice Premier's residence and offices, passing through a tunnel like underpass. Just as they were leaving the short tunnel and the gunner was ready to fire, an intense explosion rang out, catching everyone off guard. When Naoto had pulled up beside the SUV, Ohgi had fired his RPG sideways, destroying the other backseat window in the process. The SUV did a barrel role, flying into oncoming traffic on the other side of the freeway.

"Holy shit," Clovis screamed, as he saw the fireball of an SUV careen into a minivan.

"This is Black Wing Four! Intersection ahead," the other black SUV driver said over the radio.

"Roger! You stop at the intersection and shoot those bastards! We'll make a right at the light," the limo driver responded.

"We copy!"

"This is Baseplate to all units. Local police are responding."

"This is Black Rider, we hear you Baseplate."

The black SUV, blowing through a toll booth, pulled into the middle of the intersection and deployed its minigun, which immediately turned around to face back at the oncoming vehicles.

"Naoto, slow down, we'll go first," the driver of the last van said.

Naoto listened to his comrade and let him take the lead, the van in the fast lane, the SUV in the slow lane. The limousine flew through the tollbooth, slowing down slightly to make the right turn. The van didn't slow down. The minigunner spooled up and let the bullets fly.

"For Japan!"

The van, despite its driver being riddled with bullets, slammed into the SUV, jerking around the gunner, incapacitating him. The white SUV turned right, chasing the limousine. The back doors to the van opened up, just as the side doors to the black SUV did. While the five rebels (and there were only five as everyone else was dead) who got out off the van were all wearing ski mask, crude body armor, and jeans, the four men who got out of black SUV wore black balaclavas, Special Forces style helmets, complete with goggles, and all black clothes, with darkened military grade body armor. They had no patches, branch names, or insignias on their uniforms, not even the soldiers' names. Though the soldiers were originally the 3rd Battalion, Royal Regiment of Scotland, now they are only known by their regiment name, the Black Watch (and they are no longer Scottish). The four soldiers picked up their weapons and moved into attack positions. On the right side of the SUV, the man closes to the van carried a SPAS-12 shotgun. After seeing the van's front passenger get out he instinctively shot the man, blowing off the top of his head before he even realized what was happening. All the other soldiers exited the vehicle, pulling out Special Forces assault rifles, called SCAR-Hs. As they moved forward, the rebels flew around the corner firing wildly at everything; though they shot two cars and five civilians, they did not hit one soldier. The Black Watch quickly shot them all in the head…

* * *

><p>"Where the hell are we going," Clovis yelled.<p>

"The Premier's Palace," the driver responded.

The limo sped down the middle to the street, trying its best to dodge traffic.

"Black Rider, where are you," a voice came in over the radio.

"I'm in Kasumigaseki, about to head northbound toward the palace, hold on!"

The driver skid the large limo around a corner, barely avoiding cross-traffic.

He continued on the radio, "Currently passing Hibiya Park!"

The driver, knowing full well he was in the home stretch, gunned the engine, sometimes driving into oncoming lanes. _If I could just get to the palace_, he thought, _we'll be home free_. He kept driving, pushing the car as far as he could. He blew through the next light, once again just barely making it through cross-traffic, the SUV close behind.

In the SUV, Ohgi took the RPG and loaded it, threw it the front seat, and was about to climb back himself when Naoto suddenly veered to avoid traffic, causing Ohgi to go flying out the back car door.

"Ohgi," Naoto yelled, but it was too late. Ohgi went flying into the intersection, just barely missing getting hit by a car. Ohgi ran out of traffic, into the nearby park, taking off the balaclava he had on once he was sure he had concealed himself. Naoto, unable to stop and go pick up his friend, pressed on.

They were now on palace grounds, in the large southern gardens, which were now a public park. Traffic had lightened considerably, and the SUV had begun to close in.

"Turn left and head for the gate," Granger yelled. The driver did as instructed and turned left. Military units began to close in. The SUV cut through the grass, as Naoto put his left arm out of the window to reveal that he was now holding the RPG. No longer caring whether he lived or died, he fired a single rocket, and hit the limousine on its side dead center, causing it to roll. No sooner had he done that, a missile, fired by a Self Defense Force soldier at the gate, tore through his vehicle, flipping it, and sending it skidding on its back; it stopped a few feet away from the limousine.

By now, Crow One, a Blackhawk helicopter carrying more Black Watch was in the airspace over the area.

For a couple of minutes, there was no movement from either vehicle. Then, suddenly, a man got out of the limousine. It was Rob Hort, carrying Granger towards the old castle gate. The driver was next to get out, limping but alive. He pulled out Clovis, who appeared shaken, but uninjured. Then, Naoto got out of his vehicle. As he was doing so, Humvees pulled up into a semicircle around the two vehicles, blocking them from the main road. Various Self Defense Force soldiers got out, and immediately began yell for Naoto to get on the ground and put his hands on his head. Naoto responded by unzipping his jacket, and taking it off, to reveal that he was wearing a bomb, to everyone else's shock.

"Don't shoot! I have the detonator in my hand," he says revealing that he had a cellular phone in his hand. He leaned down next to his car and pulled out a katana, a Japanese sword, still sheaved in its saya, the scabbard. He grasped the sword handle with his teeth, and precariously removes it from the saya. He then grasped the sword with his hand, and states, "I just want Clovis! Nobody else has to die!"

Naoto hears a sound above him and looks up. He realizes there is a news helicopter overhead, causing him to somewhat smirk. He now has an audience…

**III**

"Karen, hurry up! We're leaving."

"Okay, mom!"

The young girl, who was wearing a pair of sneakers, daisy duke shorts, and a yellow blouse, wore her unnaturally red hair in an uncombed, wild fashion. She had some Asian features, but her beautiful light blue eyes and skin complexion betrayed her mixed heritage. Her mother, however, was Japanese, through and through. She had darker skin, sky blue eyes, and dark brown hair tied into a ponytail. The mother, Keiko Stadtfield née Kōzuki, silently sat at a table reading a book, waiting on her daughter. She was such a patient woman; she wasn't the slightest bit angry her daughter was taking their time. In fact, she decided to leave a little bit early because she knew her daughter would take her time. She sat there, cross hanging around her neck, simply reading the words of the prophet Ezekiel, when her daughter screamed. The mother immediately put her book down and ran to the next room.

"Kallen, what's wrong," she asked.

Her daughter pointed towards the television. Keiko put her hands over mouth in shock as she watched her son on television.

* * *

><p>"Well done, Jett! These new Knightmare Frames are marvelous!"<p>

"Well, thank you, sir."

Jett Stadtfield, CEO of Europe's Gründer Industries, had lived in Japan for over 10 years. He was originally CEO of Ford's Japan Branch. However, when Gründer was bought out by General Resource, the Emperor's holding company, Jett was given the honor of becoming the company's new CEO. When General Resource took over Gründer, it also gained the company's subsidiary, Schaft Enterprises, one the world's leading constructors of Labors, a large bipedal class of walking robots originally developed for civilian purposes, like construction. However, some labors, were, inevitably, designed for war; Schaft's entire product lineup were Labors designed for the German military, and later the Euroforce, but when as cost got prohibitive, it looked like the European military Labor market was dead and Schaft along with it, that is, until a certain young Knight from America came in and asked Schaft, still a German company then, to build a new type of machine, specifically for combat, for the American Royal Knights…

"I must say Jett, you out did yourself with these new Knightmares."

"Well, you should find these Knightmares more suitable for going up against Labors and the like, Lord Jeremiah."

"I'm sorry for all the inconvenience. I know this has been affecting your labor production…"

"Not at all my Lord. The Japanese control worldwide Labor production, what with Shinohara, Hishii, and Yotsubishi controlling the police construction, emergency, and military labor markets, Hishikawajima holding the mining market, and Buchiyama holding the amphibious market, well, the international market was pretty much closed to us, and with the E.U. an economic mess, I dare say we never had a chance. You may have saved Schaft, actually."

"Well, I hope you will have these Knightmares ready for combat soon!"

"Of course! By this time tomorrow we will close our last European factories, and shift all our domestic factories into producing these new Knightmare Frames by the dozens."

Royal Knight Jeremiah Gottwald stared at the large machine in front of him in silent approval then decided to ask a question that was on his mind. It was a minor trifle really, but it was still something that was nagging.

"Hey, Jett?"

"Yes, Grand Master Gottwald?"

"Please, call me Jeremiah! I would like to think that we were on a first name basis. Anyway, I was wondering, you never introduced me to your family. I was really hoping to meet them sooner or later. I mean, we have been working together for… what, two or three years now?"

Jett, a brunette, dashing gentleman approaching middle age, responded, "Well, I didn't think you would be comfortable around them."

"And why would you think that?"

"You mean…you don't know?" Now Jett was looking directly at Jeremiah.

"Know what, Jet?"

Jett turned his head and looked up at the new Knightmare Frame, then said, quietly, "I married a Japanese woman."

"What!"

A look of utter shock and disbelief crossed his face. _Is this why Kewell disproved of our friendship_, he thought to himself.

All of a sudden, a foreman ran in yelling, "Mr. Director, come quick, you son is on TV!"

Both Jett and Jeremiah ran to the main office of the factory complex. There, a large number of workers were watching the television. On the screen, was Jett's stepson, Naoto, wearing some kind of device around himself, holding what looked like a sword in his hand.

"We are coming to you live from over the Premier's Palace," a news announcer began on the television, "showing you what looks like a standoff and/or hostage situation, right inside the palace complex. It appears a young man, a possible Japanese rebel, is holding the new Premier, Clovis Britannia, Third Crown Prince, hostage with what looks to be some kind of explosive device. Currently, we are unable to identify this young man's identity or what his aims are…hold on. It looks like he's talking! Get the volume up!"

"I must go," Jeremiah said. And with that the knight was off, not even looking back at his speechless friend.

* * *

><p>Naoto continued to stand unabated as the soldiers surrounding him stared in shock and disbelief. Behind the soldiers, the police were gathering on the road, removing any and all bystanders and passersby. The red headed youth raised his sword toward Clovis, leveling it at the Imperial Prince and began to take steps toward him…<p>

"Stop right there," a soldier yelled out.

"Don't you dare shoot! My phone is a dead man's switch! If I take my finger off the call button, the bomb will go off! I don't want to kill anyone I don't need to; I just want Clovis!"

Naoto continued to move forward, his sword pointed at Clovis. "Move away! Move away or I will activate this bomb! All of you! That includes you driver," he says. The lead soldier, a Second Lieutenant, looked conflicted. He had fought more than enough Japanese nationalist to know that they were prepared to die for their cause, preferring honor in death, rather than the shame of defeat. He knew that if this young man came this far, he was prepared to die to complete his intended mission. The lead soldier stood firm, but Clovis said something that truly shocked him.

"It's okay gentlemen! Back off! I will face this ruffian on my own! There's no need to endanger all your lives, I will face death with honor and dignity!"

Everyone looked at the prince in disbelief. Was he actually asking them to back away? Clovis nodded to the Second Lieutenant, who, reluctantly did as he was told, signaling for his men to back off. The soldiers walked backwards towards the road, and the drivers of the vehicles moved those back as well. The limo driver refused to leave Clovis's side, but Clovis nodded to him, and he backed away as well moving toward the castle gate. When everyone was a sufficient distance away, Naoto slowly begun moving towards Clovis.

"Lord Clovis, my name is Naoto Kozuki. I am the leader of a Japanese Resistance cell made up of those of us tired of corrupt American rule! For years, your family has trodden upon our national dignity, spat upon our pride, and denied our heritage. You did everything you could to demonize our proud history, destroy our religion, and curse our divine inheritance! Your ancestor murdered our Emperor, destroyed his family's honor, and ran his name through the mud! For all these crimes and more…you must be punished!"

By now, Naoto was standing in front of Clovis, the sword inches from the prince's face.

"So, you think killing me, will bring back your honor," Clovis says quietly.

"Your family has done a great injustice to our people, and taking you life will return just a little more honor to our nation. For the great evil your people have done, we will never accept you as Japan's leader!"

Naoto raised his sword to end the prince's life; just as he did Clovis slid out the way of the door to his limo and out came a hand that grabbed Naoto's left hand, the one that held the phone.

"What the hell," Naoto asked.

"Gotcha, you Jap punk," was the reply of Ryoto Seiko. Seiko had grabbed the Naoto's hand, keeping his finger pressed on the call button of his cell phone.

"Hah! Did you really think I'd let you kill me, you naïve fool? Japan is dead! From now till the end of the world," Clovis states while running away from the car.

Naoto let out a barbaric yell, saying, "You bastard!" He raised his sword, determined to slice off Seiko's head. Just as he was about to deliver the killing blow, a shot rank out, and a bullet went right through Naoto's medulla oblongata, exiting his skull below his left eye. Naoto's head deflated like a balloon, his skull collapsing in on his skewered brain. The shot was instant death; he felt no pain. It would take a little time for brain activity to completely cease, but the affect on his body was immediate; it slumped to the ground in a heap, Seiko was just barely able to hold on to the bomb trigger. In seconds, the long ordeal was all over. The soldiers closed in on the body, Seiko still hold Naoto's hand and the phone.

"Get the bomb squad down here! Hurry," the Second Lieutenant yelled, leaning down to check on Seiko.

"Who made that shot anyway," Seiko asked.

"They did," the Second Lieutenant retorted, pointed toward a Black Hawk helicopter in the sky carrying Black Watch.

The bomb squad, having got the call to respond when everyone else did, was already on the scene and ready to dismantle the bomb. Clovis, unfazed by the death of Naoto, simply walked towards the castle gates.

**IV**

"Is he dead?"

"Yes sir, the shot was fatal."

"And the Prince?"

"Uninjured and unfazed, apparently."

"Good, keep me posted on developments."

"Yes sir, of course."

Jeremiah Gottwald closed his phone and put it in his pocket. _This will reflect badly on me. How could security have been so lax_, Jeremiah asked. He continued to stare out the window of his car, as he passed by a neighborhood in the midst of rebuilding.

_Japanese trash._

* * *

><p>Jett Stadtfield fell back into a nearby chair, a blank look on his face.<p>

"My God! It appears that the young man, who identified himself as Naoto Kozuki has been killed! We are still not sure who took the shot, but it does appear that the young man has taken a shot to the head. My God, what an awful end to a horrible situation," the news broadcaster says.

"Okay people shows over, return to your post," the factory foreman bellowed. Everyone left the room quietly, that is, everyone except the foreman and Jett.

"What do you want to do sir," the foreman asked Jett.

"Continue work here as usual. We must push if we are going to have these machines ready in time. Me, I'm going home," was Jett's sullen response. The foreman left the room without another word. Jett sat in the chair for a few more minutes before getting up to leave.

* * *

><p>"NOOOO! NOOOO!"<p>

Kallen fell to the floor, distraught at having witnessed her brother's death. Her mother clasped her hands together and began to silently pray, tears running down her face. _God, have mercy on my son_, she prays. She looked down to see her daughter staring at the T.V. in shock, her face frozen in a look of utter disbelief. Keiko kneeled down behind her daughter, put her hands on her shoulders, and said through her own tears, "Its okay Kallen, Naoto's in heaven now, and you'll see him again."

"No he's not," Kallen said darkly.

"What," Keiko asked innocently.

"He wasn't a believer. He didn't believe! He didn't believe in your God!"

"Kallen!"

Kallen stood up, pushing her mother down in the process. She turned to face her mother, tears in her eyes.

"He didn't believe in your American God! He only believed in Japan!"

"Kallen, God is not the god of any one country or people!"

Kallen ran out of the room, but before she left completely, she turned and said, darkly, "Naoto didn't believe in your God, and I don't either." After that, she was gone.

Keiko collapsed completely and began to sob uncontrollably. All she could do was clutch her cross…

* * *

><p>President Stone turned off his television.<p>

"Sir, it's probably prudent we hold a press conference." These were the words that came from Chief of Staff Reece Sanders.

"He was prepared to die to kill Clovis," the President said softly, not speaking to anyone in particular.

"I guess that's that whole bushido thing we've been hearing about, sir."

"He looked very young."

"Of course! These terrorist always send the young ones in to die for their causes, while the old men sit pretty in a safe house somewhere."

"He said he was the leader of a resistance group, though he didn't name it. That means he is probably part of one of the smaller rebel cells, not a member of the JLF."

"Well, Mr. President, isn't it possible that he got funding or aid from the Japanese Liberation Front? I mean, it must have been a well planned attack for them to have gotten that close to succeeding."

"They didn't get that close because they were particularly well coordinated. They got that close because the police are understaffed, the National Guard, State Defense Force, and Self Defense Force stretched thin, and the military is elsewhere. It was mistakes on our part, not their ingenuity, which helped them get to the Prince, Sanders. This is too unprofessional for the JLF to have been involved, and even if they were, they won't claim responsibility because it was botched. Was anyone caught alive?"

"No. The two vans that gave chase ran up against Republican Guard-the Black Watch, so you know how that ended. Two vans ran into the rear guard. They apparently ran them right off the freeway. Once again, the Black Watch left no survivors. There were two spotters that a helicopter found. They were both shot to pieces. Interestingly, there was a second person in Naoto's car. He seems to have disappeared; they're searching for him now."

"They won't find him. I suppose we should have expected this."

"Why do you say that, Mr. President?"

"What were we thinking, sending a member of the Royal Family over to Japan? I have half a mind to recall Clovis right now!"

"Well sir, we need the Emperor on board to push for approval of…"

"Yes, I know!"

Suddenly, a presidential advisor ran in, saying, "Mr. President, Speaker of the House Guttenberg is on the phone. He wants to know if the current developments will affect policy?"

The president turned towards the advisor and said, "No. Everything will move forward as planned. Give him that message."

The advisor left the room, and the president turned toward the television, saying, "He deserves a medal for this."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Seiko. He deserves a medal for this."

The president continued to look at the television blankly, as the camera stayed fix on the mass of soldiers surrounding Naoto's body…


	3. Chapter 2: Fallout and Aftermath

_Well its been a while, eh? And no I'm not Canadian. I was finally able to finish this since school is out. Please review, so that I can get an idea of how well I'm doing. Thanks for reading!_

Chapter 2: Fallout and Aftermath

I

"When it rains, it pours" an old saying goes. Today, it was pouring abnormally strong. The thick misty rain was like an extremely dour fog, covering the Earth with tears from Heaven. This only accentuated the gloomy funeral ceremony, darkening the sky to go with the black clothes, ill-lit church, and solemn tomb stones in the Japanese style cemetery. Keiko Stadtfield looked around at her various family members, majority of which she hadn't seen in years; her parents, her grandparents, her cousins, aunts and uncles. Then she looked over at the other side of the funeral group, her husband's family, who she regularly saw or talked to, those who took her in when her own family refused to speak to her. They stood here together for the first time ever, eyeing each other suspiciously, unable to put aside their differences, even in the face of tragedy. Everyone stood quietly as the minister gave the final words before the cremated remains of Naoto Stadtfield, who died at the young age of 26, were to be lowered into the family grave the Stadtfield's had bought when they came into wealth. The Kozuki half of the family had opposed the entire funeral ceremony; it had been a Christian ceremony, complete with a Christian sermon. The entire thing took place at a church instead of a funeral home or temple and the family did not include any traditional customs in the ceremony. Despite this fact, no one voiced any dissent (at least not outwardly), though Kallen seemed to wear a scowl on her face the entire service…

After the final words from the minister, the Stadtfields put flowers on the tombstone, and the urn was lowered into the grave. After this, the two families filed out to their cars, not bothering to look at each other; Kallen walked away from her parents silently, getting into the car of friends from her school as Keiko watched her leave. Jett was touched on the shoulder, and turned to see Marquis Jeremiah Gottwald standing behind him. Jeremiah wore a serious look on his face as he stared at Jett, sometimes flashing his eyes towards Keiko.

"Is that her, Jett," Jeremiah asked in a hushed tone.

"Who," Jett answered.

"Your wife, is that your wife?"

"Yes, that's my wife! What do you want?"

"Was Naoto your son?"

"No. My wife had him before we married. He was born out of wedlock; this brought great shame upon her family. I met her when he was, I believe, when he was 8 or 9. We met while she was at church, looking for the Lord. I was in grad school at the time. We got married like a year later. I never really did connect with the boy. That may be part of the reason he ended up mingling with those extremists."

"The Emperor wants a meeting with you and the other CEOs and Lord Schneizel at 4 p.m., Japan Standard Time, today."

"Today, really?" Jett turned to look at his daughter, who was headed towards her friend's car.

"Yes, today." Jeremiah looked up at Keiko Stadtfield and began, "Why did you marry that woman?"

"I was in love. I helped her find Christ, and she helped me get used to Japan. Over time, we both fell in love."

"But she's Japanese!"

Jett turned and looked Jeremiah in the face, and said, "Jeremiah, when I came here, I was a stranger in a strange land. The people here called me gaijin, and saw me as a foreigner, despite the fact that we were all American citizens. I didn't understand the customs of the people. It was Keiko who saw me as a friend, and she was the first real friend I had over here. I see her as a person, the same way she saw me. And if you can't see her the same way, I feel sorry for you."

Jett turned around and walked up behind his wife, put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Are ready to go?"

"Yes," she said weakly.

The couple walked towards their car silently, Keiko leaning on her husband's shoulder. Jeremiah watched as they left.

* * *

><p>"So Kallen, you want to go get something to eat?"<p>

Kallen stared out the window of the car. The rainwater flowed down the window, distorting the image of everything outside. Oh, how so like her mind this image was! Everything, distorted, confused; nothing seemed correct in her angry mind.

"Kallen? You there?"

Kallen turned to look at her friend, the driver of the vehicle, Meeya I. Hillmick. Meeya had Lilac colored hair, indicating genetic manipulation, and was obviously white. Her wide, brown eyes, shown innocently in the dim car as she looked worryingly at her friend; the look in Meeya's eyes was not one of judgment, like she saw in others at school, but one of caring and understanding. Kallen tried her best to not look all that messed up. She smiled, rather weakly, and added, "Yeah, I'm alright." She knew she was lying. Meeya knew she was lying too. But Meeya simply smiled and said, "Okay." Meeya knew that Kallen didn't want to worry her, and Meeya didn't press the issue.

"Meeya?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I stay with you for a couple of days? I had a fight with my parents."

"Yeah, sure! Want me to take you home to get some things?"

"Yeah, thanks. But after you take me home and we get my things, can you drop me off at the train station and take my stuff home with you. I'll come to your house later. There's some place I got to be first."

"Yeah, sure! Whatever you say! But, what about you parents?"

"I'll leave a note for them."

"You sure about that?

"Yeah."

Kallen sat back in her seat. She knew what she must do.

II

Clovis sat in his plush seat, looking out at the rain. From here, he could just barely make out the skyscrapers of the nearby Maranouchi business district. The mist the rain created was a thick sad grey, as if the world was mourning for the sad youths killed only a week ago. Only now were the young men killed on that faithful day getting laid to rest. Clovis was surprised to learn that the youth who lead the attack, Naoto Kozuki, was actually Naoto Stadtfield, son of Jett Stadtfield. Clovis knew that the fallout from this would be disastrous, and imagined that his brother was doing extensive damage control in what could become the ultimate PR nightmare.

Clovis himself had done a press conference the day after the attack. Nothing special, just that same PR shtick that everyone gives after events like this transpires. The only thing he had been sincere about was the thanks he gave to General Ryoto Seiko for saving his life. Clovis guessed that he would have to give the President's idea of rewarding Seiko's bravery serious thought…

All of a sudden, an aide bust into Clovis's office and said, "My Lord, a General Bartley Asprius is here to see you."

"Good, send him in."

And in walked a large, balding middle aged man, wearing an Army Class "A" Blue Service Uniform, complete with peaked cap covering his bald head. He wore a slender brown moustache and a golden monocle over his left eye. General Bartley Asprius was a military veteran of 20 plus years and his father was a WWII veteran. Bartley however was somewhat of an oaf, and didn't really have a spectacular military career. In fact, the only reason he had his position in the first place was because the nation had a shortage of generals when WWIII began. Bartley was definitely not General material, but none the less, he was useful as a pawn.

"Hello, Lord Clovis! I'm General Bartley Asprius. I was originally commander of Imperial European Command, but Prince Schneizel ok'd me being transferred to your command. I am now commander of Imperial Japanese Command and at your service."

Bartley then turned around to see if anyone was still in the room, leaned in forward, and said, "I am aware of the "special project", and I was sent here to ensure that it's safely moved to the lab and the lab study goes off without a hitch."

Clovis leaned forward, looked Bartley in the eye, and retorted, "Where exactly is the subject, Bartley?"

"The subject is on its way to the lab in Osaka, my liege!"

"Good! Make sure it gets there…no mistakes!"

"Yes my lord! I will make it my personal duty to see this through to the end! Good day!"

Bartley saluted the young prince and quickly walked out of the room. _What a pudgy man_, Clovis thought to himself. Clovis picked up a pen to begin work, when the same aide bust through his door.

"What is it now!"

"My lord, a Grand Master Jeremiah Gottwald is here to see you!"

"Send him in."

Jeremiah Gottwald, originally a foot soldier in the army, clawed his way up to major, and then joined the Royal Knights to claw his way up again. The young man, with his teal colored hair and handsome chiseled features, was a military prodigy, coming from an aristocratic military family and excelling at every military academy he went to; he joined the military as soon as possible, having already attained the rank of First Lieutenant and numerous awards through ROTC, and looked for the most challenging assignments to ensure promotion. His first year in the military he made major and immediately joined the Knights, and, at age 20 no less, he was made Lord Protector, the Head of the Praetorian Guard and Janissary, a feat so unprecedented, soldiers and knights everywhere cautioned against it, but the Emperor would here no arguments, that is, until the Empress Consort, Marianne vi Britannia was killed in a terrorist attack. Jeremiah took the blame and his career was nearly obliterated. He lost his prestigious position and found himself demoted to Grand Master. This was actually seen as too good for him as this still gave him control over one of the 100 knight military orders; that gave him 21,000 troops and a rank equivalent to Major General. Though he distinguished himself in WWIII and was the first commander to use the Knightmare Frame, the stigma of his greatest failure has followed him nearly his entire career and he has not received a rank promotion since his demotion…

Jeremiah walked in, dressed in his full dress attire; a blue buttoned up frock coat, black formal trousers, white gloves and a white cravat. His hair combed and gelled over, his face fixed in a confident smirk.

"Grand Master, Lord Jeremiah Gottwald, commanding officer of the Order of Purity, reporting for duty, sir."

Clovis leaned back in his chair, unimpressed, and says, "Marquis Jeremiah, how can you report to me when you are not under my command?"

"Well sir, I was just introducing myself! My order is one of three orders in this dominion. The other is Grand Master Kewell's order, the Order of the Eagle, and Grand Master Nu's Order of the Cherry Blossom. I felt it was my duty to welcome you sir, and apologize for what transpired when you arrived. I assure you sir; we will take steps to prevent it from happening again."

"Really, Lord Jeremiah? And what were you doing the day I almost died, hmm?"

"I had a prior engagement! Besides, your security was not my responsibility!"

"Then who's was it?"

"General Seiko's!"

"Really, because I was informed by several people it was your responsibility! I was also informed of your hatred of the Japanese. Now I know you just want to save face in the wake of this "incident", but I am worried when the most powerful knight in my dominion is not where he needs to be and then lies about it!"

Jeremiah lost his composure. He knew all Clovis had to do was make a call and he would lose his position and rank. He spoke quickly, hoping to at least keep his job.

"Sir, the reason I could not oversee your protection directly was because I was inspecting the production of the newest Knightmare Frame models from Shaft."

"Shaft? Isn't their CEO the father of the rebel leader that was killed?"

"Yes."

"I heard the company he is in charge of was also suspected of having been involved in the assassination of Empress Consort, Queen Marianne, because of her ties to their rival, the Ashford Foundation."

"There was an investigation, but it turned up nothing."

"And?"

"And what, sir?"

"What about the Knightmare Frames?"

"They look spectacular."

Clovis turned around and looked out of his window, away from Jeremiah, and said, "Jeremiah, take my advice; prioritize yourself, and never forget your first duty. Now, because of your combat record, I will let this failure go, but don't screw up again, and don't you dare ever lie to me again!"

"Yes sir, thank you!"

Jeremiah saluted Clovis and turned to walk out.

"Oh, Jeremiah, one more thing."

"Yes sir." Jeremiah responded without turning around to face Clovis again.

"Were you busy with something else the day Queen Marianne died?"

Jeremiah gritted his teeth and balled up his fist. "No sir."

"Okay. You may go."

Jeremiah quickly walked out of the office. Clovis continued to look out of the window…

III

The Sunshine 60 building, an example of Japan's economic growth following its "liberation" from the Showa regime; it's the tallest building in Tokyo's Toshima Ward and was one of the "epicenters" of the Battle of Tokyo. The building, originally mixed use, fell into Imperial control under Emperor Charles, and currently served as the headquarters for the Emperors megacorporation, General Resource, and was home to Jett Stadtfield's office. Jett himself entered the Sunshine City center and passed into the tower's main lobby.

"Ah, Mr. Jett! The meeting is in the 57th floor board room," a concierge states kindly.

"Thank you."

Jett walked into the nearest of the tower's many elevators. He had a good idea what the actual questions he would be asked would be, so he sat there in the elevator, coming up with answers to his questions in his mind. The elevator quickly ascended the 60 floor building, stopping on 57th. Jett walked out unhesitant, for he knew that it was important to maintain a front of calmness and control.

Jett walked down the hallway to the double doors of the meeting room. He opened the two doors to reveal that the room itself was actually quite dark. No lights were on, just the light from the hallway. Jett wondered whether he had arrived early. Suddenly, a TV screen at the other end of the room flickered on a face appeared on it. The hawkish face grinned menacingly and stated, "Please sit down Mr. Stadtfield."

Jett quickly grabbed the seat at the end of the long board room table directly facing the TV screen, letting the double doors close behind him.

"What can I do for you, Emperor," Jett replied when he sat down.

"I was reading a report given to me regarding the attack on my son this past week, and was surprised to hear that your son was the one that attacked him! Can you explain this?"

Jett, wiggling around in his $500 suit, replied carefully, "Well, I am married to a Japanese woman, sir, and she had that boy, Naoto, long before I met her. He and me, we never got along, and I think that resentment fostered anger against the American government. Though, to be truthful, I can't tell you exactly when he joined the Rebellion. He was a smart boy and a college graduate; though he took part in pro-Japan demonstrations, I never would have thought he would have fallen in with terrorists."

"Well, Mr. Stadtfield, I'm sure you can imagine how much of a public relations fiasco this is. Now, my son, your boss, Schneizel, says I should fire you. But, I believe that is not necessary. However, it seems you fate is in your own hands."

"What do mean by that, Emperor?"

"Currently, you are working on a high level military project, a new Knightmare Frame, for the Knighthood, as well as developing Frames for the Knights of the Round, am I correct in saying this?"

"Yes sir."

"What I'm saying, is that your future may ultimately depend on whether or not your new Knightmare Frames outperform modern Labors and older Knightmare Frames, understand?"

"Completely, sir! And, I am pleased to tell you that the new Knightmares are complete and about ready to be shipped off to local Knight Orders for "combat testing"!"

"Excellent, Stadtfield! I knew I could count on you! Make your nation proud!"

"I will, your Excellency! Thank you for the vote of confidence!"

"Of course; you're dismissed!"

The monitor turned off, leaving Jett alone in the dark. The tired man let out a sigh and decided that he would stay at work late tonight.

* * *

><p>Keiko Stadtfield stepped out of her friend's car. The rain had longed stopped, but the skies were heavy and dark.<p>

"I can't believe that no good husband of yours decided to go to work today! I just can't understand how men think," Keiko's friend says angrily.

"He was called away to an important meeting, so it couldn't be helped," Keiko responded lightly, trying to calm her friend, and, reassure herself.

"Whatever. Hey, you need me to stay with you tonight Keiko?"

"No, Jett will be back later on tonight, he only had a meeting."

"Alright then, see you later!"

"Bye!"

Keiko's friend put the car in gear and drove off. Keiko stood, watching her friend leave, driving out the main gate to their vast land. She clasped her hands together in front of her, and turned to face her large, dark house.

The Stadtfield mansion was unusually large for a house built in Japan; the huge mansion was built in a type of Italianate style, was three stories tall, with dozens of rooms; in a mountainous country like Japan, a house like this is nearly impossible to find. It was a western home, bereft of almost anything traditionally Japanese. This house, a gift for serving the Emperor, was said to be one of the greatest in all of Japan. Naoto never liked living here; Jett tried to make him see how blessed he was to live in such a nice home with his own private room, especially since so many Japanese own extremely small houses or apartments, but Naoto never listened to him. Maybe his hatred of the house was simply an extension of his hatred for his stepfather…

Keiko unlocked the large double front doors at the end of a part of the building that jutted out from the rest; the lights were all off inside, a sign that nobody was home. She looked over at a nearby table located to her left. She picked up a flat item with a screen; tapping the screen caused words to light up on it saying "Universal Remote 2000". Navigating the touch screen menus that flashed on after that, she pressed a "button" on the screen causing the entire hallway to light up. The hallway itself was actually a vestibule and the end in front of the door was a genkan, the sole Japanese aesthetic the house held. It was here that shoes were removed by those who entered, a Japanese practice and this is what Keiko did, putting her shoes in a nearby coat closet along with her umbrella. Then she slid on her slippers, put down the remote, and made her way to the other end of, and exited the room. Finding herself in a living room, she looked around, and found the light switch. After turning on the lights, she looked down to notice that there was a note on the coffee table; picking it up she began to read:

_Dear Mother,_

_I'm tired of staying in this house. Believing in your fake god and acting like nothing is wrong. Father works for the same people who killed Naoto, and yet that doesn't seem to faze you. Those fucking American reporters talk about Naoto like he's some nutjob with no intelligence, and you just sit there, praying to your God who never answers, asking for strength that never comes, all the while, those American honkies sit around and talk about how they "liberated us" from our backward government, and it all makes me so fucking sick I can't breathe and I never sleep at night, and… I just, want to get out of the house for a while, you know? I just want to find something worthwhile to believe in. I hope you and dad appreciate your miserable little lives. I've had enough living this lie._

_Kallen_

The tears began to flow uncontrollably now. What little restraint Keiko had died right there. She fell to her knees, clutching the letter. She began speaking, mumbled gibberish, sounding like a broken prayer. Just as she did, she heard the phone ring, but she couldn't bring herself to answer it. Eventually, the answering machine picked up. Then, she heard a familiar voice on the line:

"Hey honey, it's me. I'm going to be working late tonight, so don't wait up. You and Kallen go on ahead and have dinner. I'll make it up to you later, I promise. Love you. Bye."

The phone hung up. Keiko stopped crying, put her face in her hands, and just began to shake uncontrollably…

IV

"So who's in charge now?"

"That's cold man."

"Hey, we still got an organization to run, and we need a leader."

Kento Sugiyama looked hard at his compatriot, Yoshida Mifune. Kento, a former soldier for the Japanese branch of the Imperial Self Defense Force, was a World War III veteran and had fought all throughout the occupation of Japan and the Asian Campaigns. He was a brave no nonsense young man, and his general realistic outlook on life clashed greatly with the attitude of his comrade, Yoshida. Though, and Mifune hated to admit it, Kento was right; they needed a leader.

"I'll do it."

They both turned to look at who had just spoken. The man they were looking at was an older man, with curly brunette hair. Kaname Ohgi was leaning against one of the many giant crates present in their warehouse hideout. He was tall, somewhat handsome, and muscular, but he lacked the composure of a real leader.

"Hell no," Kento says quickly.

"What, why not," was Yoshida's answer.

"Ohgi isn't military leader! He may be the most senior member of our group, but he is not a leader. He's never even served in the military for heaven's sake, he was a teacher! He can't lead us, not like Naoto can."

"So what, you want to be leader now?"

"Maybe we should just give this up."

"What the hell do you mean give this up!"

"We can't hope to compete now. Naoto was our ace in the hole. He kept us together and gave us cohesion. Without him, there's no point in continuing with this."

"What the fuck you mean there's no point," said another, even louder voice that came from one of the others that had remained quiet up to this point. This young man was college age, but unkept, and had fiery red (dyed) spiky hair. His name was Shinichirō Tamaki, and he was an idiot.

"The fuck you talking about? We got these new Knightmare Frames and we got this important information we got to act on!"

"Oh," Kento says sarcastically, "you mean those old hunks of metal that have already proven to be useless unless used in a very particular manner? Please; those things can easily be outmatched by the Labors the police use, and, and considering I'm the only person who can pilot one, I say we should give it up."

"But what about…"

"The information we found out about what they were shipping in from the mainland? We should just pass it onto the JLF and forget about it."

"Man, you sure lack confidence." Everyone turned, startled at the new, yet familiar voice that just appeared out of nowhere. While Kento's hand immediately went for his gun, he relaxed when he saw the voice's owner walk out of the shadows.

"Kallen, what the hell! How the hell did you find us?"

"I knew more about what my brother was doing than you think. Hey, Ohgi…"

"Hello, Kallen," Ohgi returned shakily.

"You weren't at the funeral. You and my brother were close."

"The police came to my house and questioned me for hours. I couldn't make it."

"Okay, I'll buy that. So what's this I hear about giving up?"

"None of your business Kallen. Go home," was Kento's stern answer.

"Hey, I don't want to be leader, but I want to join and take my brother's place on the team…"

"Hell no," Kento yelled, "What good would a sheltered little girl like you be, huh?"

"Hey, you want another pilot right," Kallen yells back, pointing at the massive bipedal robot towering over them, "My father designed, and built those damn things, and believe it or not, he let me use their piloting simulators! And guess what? Turns out I'm such a natural, I was better than most of the pilots they had on call to pilot the damn things! So, they let me be the test pilot for the prototypes, I was so good, it's what convinced the Generalissimo to continue the project…"

"Bullshit!" Kento was quickly losing his composure; his patience had run out. "You? A pilot? You really expect us to believe that they would let a little girl like you pilot a multi-billion dollar military project? You have to be kidding us!"

"You can ask Ohgi! He'll back me up, won't you Ohgi?"

Ohgi looked down and stayed quiet. He clearly wanted to stay out of it. Kallen glared at him, then turned back to Kento.

"Look, just let me in the pilot seat and I will show you how good I am."

"Not in a million years; even if you were as good as you say, we would never let you in the group."

"And why not?"

"You're only half Japanese!"

Kallen's eyes went wide. Everyone else in the room looked at Kento with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"What," was all Kallen could muster in response.

"You are half white Kallen. Your brother was all Japanese, but your father is American. You are half white, and that makes you as much a gaijin as him."

Ohgi at this point spoke up, saying, "Now hold on…"

"No Ohgi! Back in the old days, she would never have been considered real Japanese, and if we want to represent Japan we must live up to that standard. All she is is a spoiled rich, mongrel princess hoping to get into this for kicks, and that is something we don't need…"

At this moment, Kento found himself tackled to the ground and pinned under what looked like a very angry, very much crying, little redhead girl, who was much stronger than she looked.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, you little bastard? Where the hell do you get off saying shit like that to me? I am just as much Japanese as the rest of you!"

"Oh yeah? Where the hell were you when Japan was invaded, huh? In fact, where did you go to school for much of your childhood? Can you answer me that Kallen?"

Kallen's eyes went wide. She released Kento and stood up.

"While you and your family were out in America hiding, I was in Japan, serving my country during the war, alongside your brother, my squad leader. While you were out there living in some fancy mansion in Texas, everyone else here, was part of the insurgency. We thought for Japan, while you ran away to your country. You don't belong here Kallen, so go home."

Kallen hung her head in defeat and just stood there. She was about to walk out when Ohgi says, "Her leaving was not her fault."

Kallen, Kento, and everyone else looked towards the taller man. His face was stern, but not harsh. He spoke resolutely and remained calm.

"From what her brother told me, Kallen wanted to stay and fight, but her parents wouldn't let her. In fact, the only reason they let Naoto stay was because they initiated the draft. She had to go with her family. As for whether or not she's Japanese, she does have Japanese blood, so if she considers herself Japanese, that's fine with me." Ohgi gave a warm reassuring smile to Kallen, who simply looked on in silence.

"I agree," Tamaki added quickly, "and I also agree that Ohgi should be our leader"

"I second that motion," Mifune added, "both of them."

"I as well, second both motions." This came from a taller, older bespectacled man with died purple hair by the name of Yoshitaka Minami who was standing behind everyone else.

"I agree as well." This came from a taller, middle aged man with long, black hair tied into a ponytail by the name of Nagata Arata.

"Yeah, sure, why not? I agree, with both." This is came from an attractive young woman with medium length died dark blue hair, named Inoue Kaemon.

Kento looked around at all his comrades, and then looked at his friend Ohgi, who only smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Kento sighed and said, "Alright, I'll accept Ohgi as leader, but I will only let that girl join us if she can prove that she's a pilot."

Tamaki did a fist pump and whoop, Inoue clasped her hands together and smiled, Mifune laughed, Nagata chuckled to himself, Yoshitaka adjusted his glasses with a smile on his face, and Kallen wiped her eyes, turned to Ohgi, and mouthed the words "Thank you," to which Ohgi mouths back, "You're welcome."

* * *

><p>She opened the box quickly. In it was an olive green crewman suit, the type they gave to tank crews, and a pilot's helmet, fitted with all kinds of wires and circuitry. She quickly stripped off her funeral clothing and slipped on the pilot suit, leather gloves, military socks, and combat boots sitting next to the bench. She then put on the helmet and pulled down its visor. She quickly exited the locker room to the main storage area of the warehouse. There, everyone was standing in front of the 4.24 meter tall automaton standing in front of her. The RPI-11 Glasgow, the machine in front of her, was the world's first mass production Knightmare Frame, though it is technically a 4th generation model. Developed by the Royal Knights as an answer to the army's mechs and Labors, it's been said that World War III was nothing more than a test bed and global showcase for this, and other military technologies developed during the 2000s and 2010s East-West Cold War. In that light, the Knightmare Frames, the Glasgow in particular, performed admirably; it didn't win any battles on its own and, like all mechs, found its weaknesses made it steadily inferior to main battle tanks, but it could at least match tanks in a fight on equal footing, and it helped even out America's odds. This particular one, painted in the gunmetal gray common amongst the Glasgow, looked old and worn out, with its long narrow head, ugly and rearward protruding midsection and boxy shape. It was probably a WWIII veteran that was retired by the American Empire.<p>

Kallen looked up into the "face" of her chariot, sighed, then defiantly walked forward to face her fate. She walked between the rest of them, to a lift located next to the tall mech warrior. She rode the lift upwards, looking up towards her ride instead of down towards the onlookers below. She remained calm, measuring her breathing and settling her mind. When the lift finally reached the top, she crawled over the top, and onto the "shoulder" of the robot. She crawled around the head and jumped into the open cockpit. She looked around the open space to see, to her right, a button with the words, "Open/Close" next to it. She pressed the button, and the cockpit was pulled into the main torso and the world as Kallen saw it went dark. She then reached to her right instinctively, and pressed another button. That's when the machine hummed to life…

* * *

><p>"You think she even knows how to start it," Kento says sarcastically.<p>

"Shut up Kento," Inoue says quickly.

Just then, the machine comes to life. The body's gears and pistons hum to life and the machine loosens, and visibly "relaxes". The machine does nothing else.

"You think she heard me," Kento says quietly.

Suddenly the front of the machine's head opens up to reveal the Factosphere Sensor, an advanced camera that relays live thermographic images and data to the pilot. The head kind of just moves around a little bit, then looks downward towards the others.

"For your sake, I hope she didn't," Inoue replies.

* * *

><p>Kallen leaned back into her seat, and several cables, USB connections, and other interfaces connected to her helmet. All of a sudden, her helmet visor lit up, real time telemetry and diagnostic information on the status of her suit came up.<p>

"Run diagnostics check-ups," Kallen said out loud to the Glasgow's onboard computer.

All of a sudden, a mass of information flashed across her visor, streaming from side to the other. She couldn't make out what any of it said, but she didn't have to; the computer was reading it for her. She waited patiently, until a robotic voice spoke, saying, "Diagnostics, good; engine, good; fuel, 5 hours maximum; all systems, responsive; all systems go." Kallen looked forward past the visor to the screen in front of her as the cockpit around her lit up. In the screen, she could see the interior of the warehouse beyond the machine. She grabbed the two hand controls in front of her and put her feet on the pedals. She pressed a button on the left hand control and heard a large squeaking as her visors began feeding her more information being received from the newly revealed Factosphere. She pressed a series of buttons as the screen in front of her changed from normal view, to night vision, to infrared, and back to normal. She manipulated the arm controls and with each movement, the arms themselves moved. She tapped a small button on a consol right in front of her…

* * *

><p>"I need you guys to stand back," a booming voice came over the Glasgow's loud speaker.<p>

The various ragtag rebels at the foot of the machine stood back and away from the behemoth, getting a clear distance away from it. The machine lurched forward, putting its left foot first, then its right foot. The steps were a little awkward, but that was Kallen testing out the machine to see if it worked properly.

"Okay, Kallen," Ohgi began, yelling as loud as possible, "there is a paint ball gun loaded with ammunition on a steel shipping crate to your right. Use that to hit the targets we have lined up for you around the warehouse."

"You don't have to yell Ohgi," Kallen came back deadpan.

"Oh, sorry," Ohgi replied, in a normal voice.

Kento became incredulous. "Well, can you here this, your royal highness? Even with the hybrid engine, that thing is still a gas guzzler, so can we hurry this up?"

"Sure," was Kallen's only response…

* * *

><p>Kallen pressed the speaker button again. Moving her feet and the controls, she bobbed and weaved as the machine lumbered somewhat awkwardly towards the metal crate. Reflexively moving buttons on the hand controls, she picks up the paint ball gun to and holds it up in aiming position.<p>

"Setting targeting system," a hollow mechanical voice bellowed. A set of targets began appearing across her visor, and then coalesced into one single target.

"Targeting system set," the voice came back again.

"Alrighty then," Kallen responded quickly, pressing a button between the two foot pedals. She heard a loud metallic clang, and smiled…

* * *

><p>The rebels watched as a set of large metal pieces protruding from the "shins" of the Glasgow's legs detached from the back of the machine and dropped to the ground, to reveal wheels attached to each of the protruding ends.<p>

"She activated the landspinners," Kento exclaimed in shock.

"Uh-oh," Ohgi replied.

Suddenly, the wheels let out smoke as they began turning and stayed that way for a few seconds until they found traction, and then the Knightmare lurched forward, quickly accelerating to twenty miles an hour.

"Does she think this is a drag race," Kento said angrily.

"Come on, let's get to the observation deck before we get ran over, "Ohgi yells, running in that direction already.

* * *

><p>The Knightmare sped down the corridors between rows of large, metallic, shipping containers. The targeting system actively scanned for targets, and the first one came up beyond a container right in front of her. The main corridor turned left so Kallen would have to slow down to make the turn, and she didn't plan on stopping. She waited until the targeting reticule lined up, and then let burst a short volley; some of the pellets hit the edge of the target, while at least one hit dead center.<p>

She dropped her speed, and leaned with the machine as its shocks absorbed the centrifugal forces on the machine as it made the turn. She sped along the path then slowed herself and realized that the path before her was lined with targets amongst the crates, shooting range style. She maneuvered the Glasgow's left hand into grabbing the paintball gun assault rifle style and used the landspinners to adjust machine so that she was facing the left side of the pathway. She moved sideways along the path until she came to an opening among the crates; a narrow opening with a target on the side of a crate at the other end. She let loose, hitting the target dead on. She then shifted the machine so that she was facing the right side, and hit the next target as it came into view. She continued shifting and firing until she got to the end of the corridor. When she turned to face the final leg of her course she saw a single target at the end, mounted on an old, damaged Glasgow model. She revved up the landspinners and took off, firing her paintball gun, only to realize it was empty. Remembering that this unit had tonfas installed, she grabbed two leavers on the control boards beside her and pushed forward. The tonfa slide out from the machine's forearms as it dropped the paintball gun. Kallen, let out an animalistic scream as she activated the brake. Stopping right in front of the other unit, she sent a tonfa right into target, which was on the torso, right where the pilot would normally sit. The already damaged Glasgow model crumpled backward into the crates behind it, and lay in a heap…

* * *

><p>"She hit all the targets, like it was nothing," Ohgi said in awe.<p>

"She's the real deal," Tamaki added.

"She freakin' destroyed that Glasgow," Kento added, grinding his teeth.

"Oh well, it's not like we told her not to," Yoshitaka responded.

"So, what's the verdict Kento," Mifune said jeeringly.

"This means nothing. She may have the skill, but that doesn't mean she can perform in combat. She can join, but we should watch her closely."

"Fine with me," Ohgi answered.

* * *

><p>Kallen rode the tow line down from the cockpit. When she reached the bottom, she took off her helmet and fluffed up her hair which had been combed downward, her favorite look.<p>

"Sorry about the other unit. I got carried away."

"Don't mention it, you did well," Ohgi answered her, as he and the others walked towards her.

"Don't tell her that! Who do you think has got to fix that thing huh? Not you, that's for sure," Kento added angrily.

"No use crying over spilled machines," Inoue added, half jokingly.

"So, what's this big thing you guys were talking about," Kallen asked.

"Nothing, anymore, not after what happed earlier," Kento replied.

Mifune tried to interject, saying, "Now wait Kento…"

"Don't tell me to wait, Mifune! Listen, we lost most of our people in that ill advised attack Naoto launched. What you see here, is all that's left of us. The plan we had going, which was Naoto's plan by the way, requires more people than we have on call right now. Hell, it might be downright impossible to pull off now. That's why we should just pass this on to the JLF."

"So you're chickening out," Kallen added angrily.

"It's not about fear, it's about viability; the plan is simply beyond our current ability to pull off."

"I doubt it, I am sure there is a way to make it work. What was this big thing anyway?"

"The military, we found out from information we intercepted, is shipping in poisonous gas," Ohgi responded, quietly.

"Poisonous gas?"

"VX," Kento finally admitted, as Kallen's eyes went wide.

"Why would they ship in VX?"

"No one knows Kallen, but your brother had a plan to steal it from them," Mifune answered.

"And do what with it?"

"Nobody knows that either. He wasn't going to give to the JLF cause he knew what would happen if they got it," Ohgi said.

"They would use it on Americans," Kallen added gravely.

"Unfortunately," Kento answered.

"Well then, we've got no choice. We've got to go get it, and find some way to dispose of it, right? I mean, whatever they are shipping it in for, it can't be for a good reason, right? So let's do our duty as Japanese citizens!" Kallen had a big smile on her face.

Everyone looked at her, speechless. Then Ohgi came to himself and added quickly, "Exactly! Go get changed Kallen, so we can start the mission briefing."

"Right!" Kallen saluted, then ran towards the locker rooms.

_Good job Kallen_, Ohgi said to himself as he watched Kallen run towards the lockers.


End file.
